


Hard To Forget

by superfast_pinetree



Category: Mother 1 | EarthBound Zero | EarthBound Beginnings, Mother 3
Genre: AU: Claus Lives, Body Horror, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, Recovery, mental issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-11-15 16:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18076919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superfast_pinetree/pseuds/superfast_pinetree
Summary: and i have handsand i have feeti'll never diei am a freak





	1. alive and well

When Claus came to, his first thought was _I want to die._

 

It consumed him, consumed him from the tips of his legs to the top strands of hair on his head. It filled his brain like a flood, bringing garbage and wreckage crashing against his very core. A flood that seemed to burst out of every orifice in his body, because Claus couldn’t handle coming to. He couldn’t handle coming back after what he had _done._

 

When Claus came to, he acted out of panic. He acted out of self loathing, acted out of hatred and malice and darkness at _himself._ He acted without thinking. As he raised his arm to point directly at his brother, knowing full well what would happen to him, all he could do was incoherently mumble his thoughts.

 

_I want to die._

 

The lighting that blasted him nearly felt like heaven, for those first few moments. A wish that would finally be granted to him, a wish for death, all at the hands of the psychic himself. Those first few seconds of unbound electricity lashing against his skin like whips, of it burning him to his core and breaking him apart, he was happy. Blissful. He was dying. He was going to die. He got what he wanted so he was fucking _ecstatic._

 

He coughed blood, watching it blearily splatter against the ground. Claus could do nothing but stare at it, nothing but stare at the little intricacies of his own blood, locked away from the world, his thoughts and body and soul charred to a crisp. His own world, he thought idly. His own world was awfully hot. Awfully static.

 

The young boy, lost in his thoughts, hadn’t realized that others were watching, and that one was coming to him, racing against the cave floor as fast as he could. He didn’t notice heavy breathing, he didn’t notice someone grabbing him and shoving him close. He didn’t notice the panicked, sobbing, ecstatic but fearful voice of his brother, nearly shouting _“Claus, you stupid fuck!”_

 

The thing to break his mind from his own world was what came after. His brother’s hand on his back, flat but shaking horribly. His brothers voice, a tearful but calm “Refresh.” The feeling of his body going numb, his voice hitching as all that pent up electricity left. Once he felt the weight of his brother against him, his mind broke from it’s makeshift trap. Once he felt the lashes of white hot, nearly skinned injuries wracking his body, he was in the real world.

 

Claus didn’t know what to do.

 

His eyes wild, looking from place to place; seeing the cave walls glisten with strange light. Watching each pebble shake and move with the slightest rumble. Feeling his chest heave, up and down, heart running a mile a minute. Claus felt empty, but full. He felt overwhelmed, but emotionally deprived. So many thoughts filled his brain, and he found that he could barely breathe.

 

He sucked in a sharp breath. He felt his brother’s hands tighten around him. He felt his brother hush him, in a teary but calm voice. He felt his hand slowly brush through his hair.

 

And he felt the tears slip down his cheeks.

 

That was all he felt he could do- sob. Sob and sob and sob, body shaking horribly, his claws digging into his brother’s back as he held onto him for dear life. His body burned and ached and felt _numb_ all at once, and all Claus could do was cry to the point of nearly shrieking. That was all he felt like he could do. It was all he could do. It was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart.

 

His brother moved. Hands still wrapped around him, he moved upwards, taking Claus’s shaking form in his. Claus’s legs were jello, the boy decided the moment they stood. _My legs are jello._ It would take a bit before he could properly move.

 

But before he knew it, he was moving- nearly tripping at every step, leaning onto his brother’s weight as much as he could, legs wobbling and slipping like a newborn’s as he was half led, half dragged across the cave floor. He didn’t realize that others besides him and his own family member were there, not until his companion lowered him down against someone, and now _someone else’s_ hands were around him, holding him close. Keeping him in place.

 

They were speaking words, his brother and this mystery man. Claus couldn’t tell. All he could do was let the tears fall, let arms be wrapped around him, let his thoughts eventually drift and die away. His throat hurt, his body ached, and as his initial panic and fear slowly, _slowly,_ ebbed away, all he did was sigh, and relax.

 

When Claus eventually fell asleep, it was seconds before a violent shaking force wracked the cave.

 

* * *

 

He awoke to the sound of his own breathing.

 

His eye slowly fluttered open, while the other merely twitched, before staying shut. Fingers slightly curling and nose slightly scrunching, the young boy could only sigh softly, staring groggily to his side. He didn’t have the strength to get up. His eye, though still slightly blurred, could barely make out the room was in.

 

Or, well, tent.

 

A canvas ceiling and canvas walls surrounded him. Slightly ruffling in the wind, Claus could make out the appearance of a stick, near the middle of the large tent, stuck in the ground and keeping the shake in place and upwards. The ground was covered with fur skins dirty sheets, and the only visible furniture was a beat up clothes drawer, and another cot across his own. It was nothing special, if not useless against the harsher weather, but Claus felt a pang of homliness he never thought he’d feel once he saw it.

 

The opening of the tent alerted his eye, watching the tent warily as another figure entered through the flap entrance. It was a boy- someone instantly recognizable. Busted up jean shorts, red and yellow striped shirt, blonde hair styled as weirdly as ever. It was his brother, he could instantly make out. But he was… different, than he remembered. Stockier, larger- bigger than the boy he knew. He looked more mature, more like a young man than a child, and Claus immediately felt as if he had improved. Greatly.

 

He was proud, but something in him told him to be upset. He was too tired to be.

 

When his brother’s blue eyes glanced upon him, they widened. Almost immediately he rushed over, stopping to a slight skid beside Claus, something in his hands Claus couldn’t exactly make out. He tried to a get a closer look at it, but he eventually just gave up, feeling his brother slowly help him into a somewhat sitting position.

 

Draking Christ, it _hurt._ He could feel his skin nearly breaking as he moved, forcing him to hiss. “Sorry!” His brother squeaked sheepishly, and Claus didn’t say anything further. Not in response to his family, not in response to his pain. Simply nothing.

 

He didn’t know what to say, exactly.

 

His brother seemed to catch on, which Claus was immediately grateful for. “Hey! Hey…” He sat, crossing his legs as he placed a hand upon Claus’s shoulder. They were both sitting the same way, the young male would note, though his brother was a bit taller than him. Had he grown and himself… hadn’t? The thought made him huff, slightly hunching over, deciding to look at the fine details of the shoddily made blanket he was resting under only moments before.

 

“Claus… do you remember me?”

 

A sharp nod. Of course he did! Why wouldn’t he? He looked up, seeing worry in his brother’s gaze, and Claus immediately felt a slash of pity. What was he doing, acting all brooding like this? He didn’t want to make his brother sad, but here he was, doing exactly that. Despite the pain and confusion filling him to his core, Claus slowly placed his hand on his brother’s chest, and with extreme difficulty, spoke.

 

“Loo...cas.”

 

Claus knew he didn’t sound natural. He knew immediately, the second he stuttered out words that, while in his head were intent and confident, but eventually came out to be a slow, slurring mess. He was instantly ashamed of himself. He looked back down at the blanket, bringing his arm with him, staring at his hand. Claws. Big, clumsy claws.

 

His brother - Lucas, he was Lucas, not _Loocas -_ didn’t seem all that bothered, which made Claus the tiniest but grateful. “Yes! Fuck- Fuck, _Claus._ ” He felt arms wrap around his chest, and for a moment, he wanting to push him away. He wanted to shove Lucas out of the tent and into nowhere, because he was instantly overwhelmed, and he _didn’t want this._

 

His voice hitched in his throat, and he panicked. Thankfully, Lucas quickly realized what the problem was and pulled away. “Sorry, sorry. I just- It’s been three years, hasn’t it? Hah, wow, that sure was a long time! The last time we talked you wanted to rip my guts out!" Lucas’s rambling slowly go down into silence, upon the realization that Claus was staring at him with malice, with those few words. Claus didn’t know _why_ he was like this. He didn’t know why he was staring at his brother with so much hatred with those few words he uttered. Because, he- he barely remembered it. It was all a blur. A blur he didn’t remember. Only shades and slurs of color, with the lingering thought of him wishing death.

 

Claus looked away, biting his lip weakly. “‘M sorry.”

 

“No, it’s okay! Look- I’m sorry for saying that. I’ve just been waiting for this moment for so long. I- are you okay?” He felt Lucas’s hand on his shoulder. Hesitant. Claus didn’t look back at him. He didn’t want to see how he looked.

 

Silence followed, the two brothers sitting together on the battered old cot. Sunlight filtered through the flap entrance, and even though the sun’s rays were kissing Claus’s bare chest, warming him, he still felt cold. Waking up after nearly killing himself, overwhelmed with the sight of a brother he hadn’t seen; it was enough to make his head spin, over and over.

 

Claus suddenly couldn’t take the silence anymore.

 

With a newfound manic energy rising in his system, the young boy clumsily began to raise to his legs. The sharp edges where feet should be pricked at the old mattress he once lay in, and Claus ignored the strange, numbing pain that spiked through him with each clamor. His brother followed suit- though he easily took Claus by the arms and pulled him back down. When had Lucas gotten so strong?

 

“Claus-!” Lucas’s voice melted into the background as Claus’s energy seemed to build even further, his sudden begging for noise, for noise and activity and _something_ more than lying in a bed made him focused. Determined. Fuck. He was yanked back down again.

 

Arms hesitantly held him, keeping him in place, and the boy let out a panicked hum. _“Claus!”_

 

His brother stared at him, hands keeping his arm in place, voice and eyes stern and completely unlike the Lucas he’d known for so long. All he could do was stare back, huffing and puffing. “Calm down, okay? I know everything is new to you, and you must be extremely, _extremely_ panicked right now. But stay calm, okay?”

 

Claus… hesitantly stayed calm.

 

“A lot of things happened. Since you were… gone.” The stern glint in Lucas’s voice slowly ebbed, leaving his voice calm and saddened. “That dragon. It came out and- well. Destroyed everything. It created a new world. A new world _I_ don’t know. I would easily let you run out there as much as you want, but you’re on the brink of death Claus. You can barely stand.”

 

“...Yeh.” God, why did he sound so dumb? Claus puffed up in annoyance, his irritated energy nearly building enough to make him move, but he eventually gave up- pressing his face against Lucas’s chest and giving him a weary, irritated sigh. He could hear his brother’s slight laugh, hand awkwardly patting his back.

 

“If you want to go out, then I suggest I _help_ you. Not just let you hit things you want.” Okay. Yeah. That seemed better than his original plan of running out the tent and bashing his face against the closest rock. A lot better.

 

The two brothers began to slowly stumble to their feet (well, less feet for the ginger-haired boy. More like, weird sharp stubs where his ankles would of ended. He barely remembered how he got that.). With Lucas’s arm wrapped under his own arm, they began to slow trek out of the tent, Claus slipping from the canvas flap to stare at the world beyond.

 

They were standing near the edge of a steep hill, a few other tents around the area where they just left. The ground was covered in lush, green grass, and Claus clumsily stumbled down to sit, staring at the world beyond. The hill was high enough to barely be considered a mountain- he could stare down at the woods beyond, look at small streams winding their way among the forests and fields. He could see even further beyond, where he would see a much larger cluster of tents. There had to be at least twenty. Claus was never the one to consider things beautiful, but- he could make an exception.

 

“Pretty, yeah?” He turned his head, watching as Lucas sat down with his words, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he pointed down to the cluster of tents. “That’s where main Tazmily will be. Old Tazmily was ravished. Like I said, everything destroyed in a heartbeat.” Claus could only imagine how much destruction occurred. His brain filled with things to say to him, but yet again, he found himself unable to speak his sentences properly. Dragging his claws into the dirt, Claus finally managed to stutter out a few words.

 

“Any- any, any dead?”

 

“Thankfully not. That dragon really was as good as they said, if it could do all this.” Lucas looked down at the ground, suddenly looking more solemn. Claus felt another pang of pity, he had felt all those moment before. He hated seeing his little brother sad. Maybe it was instinct that made him so protective, he didn’t know, but the ginger tugged Lucas close, hugging him wordlessly. _He_ was supposed to be the sad one here! Not him. “N-No tearsss.”

 

Thankfully to Claus, his blonde brother began to smile, gently pushing his arm off him. “I wasn’t even crying, stupid!” He smiled, before his smile slowly turned into a frown, and he looked away again. Claus could see he was just as solemn before, if not even more. Ah, shit. Claus needed to fix this. Thoughts filled his brain, making his eye flick and forth, his body nearly vibrating with energy as he thought of a way to distract Lucas.

 

He suddenly got a very, _very_ dumb idea.

 

Pointing down to the woods, he stared, making Lucas temporarily distracted, an eyebrow raising. “There’s no tents down there, bud. You won’t find anything.” Yeah, he knew that. His arm slowly lowered, resting at his side, watching the tops of trees barely move with the breeze. He needed to make his brother _happy._ It was something that helped him forget his own past, his own pain, for only a moment- and he hoped it would help Lucas forget, too.

 

So Claus simply said “Goodbye.” before he stood up, raced forward, and skidded down the hill.

 

Lucas’s alarmed and panicked call for his name was immediately forgotten as the young male bounded from the bottom of the hill, clumsy but experienced, racing into the dark canopy of the woodland. He didn’t care that the slide down the hill made half of his body dirty. He didn’t care about the pain in his legs. All he cared about was making himself and Lucas feel like kids again. Feel like something he had forgotten completely.


	2. canopy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meeting someone new

The only sound that filled his mind was his feet crunching through the leaves. That, and the sound of his legs tapping and tapping as he ran further and further into the woods. Claus’s initial intentions of simply distracting himself and his brother from any pain had been lost from his mind, simply leaving him to chase aimlessly throughout the forest. He guessed that the scenery was enough to drive him away from his thoughts.

 

He ran and ran, ran until he felt his chest start to heave, ran until he couldn’t do much more rather than just gasp and slow down his ever aimless canter. His chest hurt, burn and stung all over the place- the scars that littered his body burned right along with it, and Claus quickly came to realize that  _ everything  _ hurt. He had only just woken up, after all. Of course he would be hurting.

 

It didn’t mean he hated it any less, though.

 

The ginger slowed his walking into a jog, then eventually a walk. He couldn’t hear his brother anywhere in the forest, which gave the slightest edge of fear creep into his emotions. Was he lost? Did he make Lucas lost? Thoughts strung through his head at a  mile a minute, and the young boy couldn’t help but wipe away a few strand tears from his cheek. Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe he had made himself lost again, and he’d have to be away for another three years before his brother could even find him. Guilt clawed at his heart, and Claus’s temporary joy at running through the woods came to a screeching halt. He wanted to go home.

 

He turned to head back, but after the first few steps in the general direction of the tents, his legs buckled. Claus felt as if they were cracking and breaking; they had obviously taken way too much pressure and pain than they were intended to. Thankfully, they hadn’t actually snapped in two- but it left Claus panting, eye clouded with pain as he let in deep, hissing breaths. 

 

He had made a terrible decision, hadn’t he? Run out into buttfuck nowhere, get himself lost then make himself too weak to head back home. It made panic swell in his chest, nearly burning with pain, and he eventually let out a fearful “L-Luc?”

 

...Nothing. Fuck.

 

Claus tried to remind himself. He’d been in situations like this before. He’d been out in the middle of nowhere on his own, he’d been able to get back home before. He’d been able to do this in the past, with a cheery smile and a chipper hop in his step for so long. Why couldn’t he do it  _ here?  _ Why was he stuck, sitting with tears at his eye? Why was he stuck here, too scared to move and go back? Why was he hoping that Lucas would come here to help him back? Why was he being so, utterly, uselessly dependent? Claus was supposed to be the strong bother, he was supposed to be the one to protect Lucas! Not the other way around!

 

He kicked a stone that was near the nub of his leg, watching it clatter loudly against another, angered tears pricking at his eye. He hated Lucas. No, he hated the village.  _ No,  _ he hated the army.  _ No!-  _ he hated  _ himself. _ He hated that he was so utterly useless already. He hated that he was so much smaller than his brother, and he didn’t know why. He hated that he couldn’t fucking speak without stuttering and mumbling and slurring and  _ fuck. _

 

Claus instinctively flailed his arms around uselessly, falling back into the ground, letting out a strangled scream, akin to the sound of an animal dying. He hated life, this was so, unbelievably stupid. Perhaps lying down in the dirt for all eternity would do him good. ...Yeah. This was much better. Much more relaxing than screaming or running into trees at top speeds.

 

As he decided to lay there and simply give up and trying (despite the fact it had only been a few hours after he had woken up), he was unaware of a shadow approaching him. Back turned to it, he didn’t notice the creeping steps of what seemed to be something ethereal, slowly stepping towards him, completely silent. But Claus had been forced into knowing anything and everything combatic. He knew the slightest sound most likely meant someone was coming.

 

So when he heard the sound of a crunching leaf, instincts kicked in. Vague, inky memories he had blotted out flashed into his mind, and his body and thoughts kicked into overdrive, letting in a sharp breath. A sudden lash of his body, snapping around and taking the shadow figure by the throat. His claws almost piercing them right through the jugular. His expression blank of emotion, thoughts and memories stringing through his head like a broken stitch. 

 

Once he saw what he was doing, Claus panicked. He immediately dropped the figure into the dirt, eye wide, scuttling back a few paces. What was he  _ doing?  _ Why was he so… emotionally unstable? Claus didn’t want to go back into his spiral of self loathing like a few minutes before, so he kept his thoughts at that. He was emotionally unstable. He could snap back into a form he barely remembered at the drop of a hat, and the thought that he could do that scared him.

 

Shaking his head free of any wandering thoughts, Claus let his eyes shift to the figure in front of him. With both of them staring at each other, chest heaving, the red-haired boy could get a clear look at him. He was a young boy himself- bushy black hair all over the place, but somehow well taken care of for what it was. He had burning yellow eyes, pupils nearly slits, which was… Odd, but Claus had seen and experienced many weirder stuff. He wore a bright red bandanna, which was dangling uselessly from his neck. He wore a yellow shirt with a blue vest over it, and overall he looked… unfamiliar. Strange. Something Claus had never seen before.

 

But hey, he had forgotten a lot of things. Maybe he was Tazmilian and he never remembered him enough to notice? 

 

Claus attempted to speak, but all that came out a slow, soft breath from his open mouth. Great. Before he could close his mouth and try again at his slow wheeze, the other suddenly stood, turning around and sprinting back into the safety of the leaves.

 

“W-Wh-” Claus’s call grew into nothing, quickly scrambling to his pained legs, half stumbling, half running after. He had only managed to get a few steps in, however, before he began to grow tired once more. As he stood there, his eye wandered, and something eventually caught his red gaze.

 

It was that bandanna.

 

He wobbled towards the object on shaky legs, scooping it up in his hand, looking at the silky fabric curiously. A thought mingled in his brain- what should he do with it? Though Claus wanted to certainly show off his findings to his brother, something stopped him from doing so. It would be… Mean. To keep it. He knew how much his personal belongings were important to him, so why would it be any different with someone else? The young boy let his eyebrows crease, a determined look spreading across his face before he clumsily placed it in his pants pockets. Oh yeah- he was still shirtless.

 

But whatever! He had a bandanna to return.

 

He didn’t know how long he had been traveling through the woods, but it was getting tiresome. His nubs could only handle so much before they buckled and he fell, leaving him to rest on the ground for what seemed like years, before he would eventually stand and continue his shaky trek. Claus didn’t know why this forest felt like it went on forever- but as the day continued forth, the original beauty of the shaded woodland quickly turned into something boring and repetitive.

 

At least New Pork had variety.

 

He seized up at his own thoughts.  _ No.  _ Bad Claus. He did not like New Pork, it was not better than this new scenery in any way, whatsoever! He’d be really glad to forget about it completely, thank you very much! Claus kicked the closest stone his nubbed legs could reach, watching it soar as he let out a snort. He hated his brain. His brain was stupid.

 

After what seemed like forever, the boy finally noticed the sight of the figure. Or, well- a flash of him. He could instantly tell who it was; his history made him able to tell subtle flashes like that. Excitement rose into his throat, reaching into his pants pocket to pull out the soft, silken bandanna. Lucas had always preached about returning things that weren’t yours- Claus decided that his brother would be happy if he returned it to whoever dropped it. And hell, it was the reason he was here in the first place. He wanted to make him happy.

 

“Waeii-” His voice slurred, and he clambered over to where he saw the flash of black, crunching leaves loudly and making birds chirp and fly away. “I- Iii got- this-” Claus knew that the stranger most likely wasn’t even around this area, but he had to at least try, right? It was the thought that counted?

 

Something suddenly pulled him from his thoughts. A finger was tapped on his shoulder, and Claus yelped, instincts kicking in and he whipped around, grasping the stranger and pinning him to the ground as fast and hard as he could. As his eye eventually landed on the culprit behind the poking, it widened, staring down at- oh. It was that boy again.

 

Staring up at him with reptilian eyes, pupils slits, a grin on his face despite the fact he was pinned against the ground. The boy pointed at the bandanna in Claus’s hand, and Claus suddenly remembered  _ why  _ he was here, and why he was looking for this person in the first place. “H-hhhhhheree you go- go.” Dropping the bandanna on the boy’s face, he pulled away from him, sitting upwards to stare at this mysterious person. They silently tied the cloth around their neck once more, winked, and promptly got upwards to leave.

 

“Wait-!” Claus scrambled to his own legs, following behind tiredly, his legs aching after so long. The person paused, and Claus took the moment to speak. “... Who are- aaarre-”

 

His voice came to a sudden halt, once he heard the sound of a familiar person, echoing through the woods.  _ “Claus! Claus, where are you?”  _ Oh! His brother! His thoughts died away as he promptly turned around, but he was stopped by the hand of this mystery boy once more.

 

They opened his hand, placing something into it before slowly closing his claws around the object. They winked, giggling mischievously to the confused Claus, before they finally broke away and sprinted off into the forest.

 

Huh.


	3. tazmily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting groceries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for the r slur and ablism!

Days passed. 

 

Nothing all that out of the ordinary happened, then. At least, not for Lucas. Day in and day out of making his way down to the main village, help with the construction of buildings, helping his dad with the animals, before heading back up and spending the rest of the day with his brother.  It wasn’t the most exciting of routines, sure, but- it was something to keep his mind away from all the bad things. The bad things that refused to leave his mind, no matter how hard he tried to forget them.

 

Today was no different. Waking up at the crack of dawn, Lucas would spend the first few hours of his day bathing in the nearby river (not getting into details, that would be strange on Lucas’s and anyone else’s parts), coming out to change his clothes, and eventually going back in his and Claus’s tent to wake up his sleeping brother.

 

He had been… worried about him. Though Lucas would never say it, he was scared about his brother- scared that he’d break something in himself, break something in Lucas, break something in anyone else. He was scared that his strange behavior wouldn’t go away. Lucas knew that thinking those things was most likely not the best thought process; he loved his brother, he’d go to the ends of the earth to make sure Claus was safe and secure. But he had his doubts. He had his concerns. 

 

But he didn’t show them. He didn’t show how stressed and paranoid he was, after everything. He didn’t show them as he shook his brother gently awake. He didn’t want Claus to worry- he’d ran away after that, and hell, Lucas didn’t want to lose his brother for real this time. 

 

Which was why he acted as happy as ever in front of his older sibling. Leading him out to the river to ( _ not watch)  _ let him bathe, eating breakfast with him as they looked over the edge of the hill. It was nice, even though Lucas was faking it most of the time. It was nice being close to Claus, no matter how different he was. He was still his brother after all- he loved him whether he liked it or not.

 

(He did.)

 

Lucas was sitting on a tree stump near the edge of his and Claus’s little cluster of tents they called their home. He was sharpening a stick with a makeshift whetstone, occasionally looking upwards to see Claus sitting at the edge of the hill, looking intently down at the forest. Lucas could tell he was focusing- back straight, little, stunted wings folded tightly against his body. Ever since he…  _ changed _ , he was always like this when he was focused. It was a part of the masked Claus that never left him. That’s what Lucas thought of it.

 

“You okay there?” He called, knowing exactly what Claus’s intentions were. He had been staring down at the woodlands, ever since Lucas had finally found his brother underneath the shade of the branches. It was as if he’d seen something there that Lucas hadn’t. But- that couldn’t be the case, right? The blonde had explored each and every nook and cranny as far as he could go. There was nothing in those woods. Nothing but wood and grass and little forest animals. 

 

But he also knew Claus. He knew that Claus didn’t just become interested in something for no reason. Even when he was like this, his core personality hadn’t changed. Lucas knew that, just from being his twin. Something was absolutely fishy.

 

“Mnh.” Claus let out a hum, rocking on his little criss crossed position. “Yeh. Yeh. Yeah.” By the time Claus turned his head to glance behind him, Lucas was done with his stick, and he walked over to take a seat next to the red-haired boy. He took an immediate liking to the spear.

 

“Mnnh.” He poked it, and his rousing commentary caused Lucas to laugh. “Pointy.” 

 

“It is really pointy, isn’t it? It’s for hunting.” Lucas practiced his throwing stance idly, scrunching one eye closed, looking down the hill to see if there were any animals at the bottom. Not that he was aware of. Though if he squinted enough, he swore he could see the little specks of Tazmilians down at the main village. Cool.

 

“Logs.” Claus spoke, waving his hand in the general direction of the village below. Claus was completely right- the smallest bits of log houses could be seen, though they were in their most skeleton state. It looked like they were making great progress.

 

_ Unlike us.  _ Lucas thought miserably.

 

Lucas spared a glance back at their own camp, and he found himself to be right, unfortunately. Still living in canvas tents, the biggest for the two brothers being the most new and polished. Kumatora’s and Duster’s tents, however- they were worse for wear. The young blonde also knew for a fact they were quickly running out of resources. They would have to go down to town again. 

 

Well. He wanted to go down there anyway. But buying things were a chore.

 

Lifting himself up to his feet, Lucas stretched, before making his way over to the main path that would head down the hill safely (he didn’t do a full sprint down the hill like his brother loved to do.). Claus was immediately notified of his presence. “Wherrrrr- Where. Where-”

 

Lucas soon noted the company of his brother, teetering after him, the little  _ tap taps  _ of his nubs making soft noise in the dirt. Though he loved his brother, he didn’t want to hassle with him while in town- especially when he was getting something. So he gently nudged him away. “Go mess around with Kuma, bro. Alright?”

 

A pause, then an angry huff. Lucas could tell Claus was upset with his words- his back suddenly rigid, tapping one of his legs onto the dirt a mile a minute, eye dark and little wings puffed. He knew how much his brother hated being denied something, even back when they were both kids. Lucas could normally handle his brother’s antics like a pro (which he was, not to brag), but this time, he eventually caved. Claus had spent two weeks cooped up on that hill, with only the company of him, Kuma, Duster and Boney. He was probably starving for attention; attention that wasn’t him. “...Ugh,  _ okay.  _ Don’t do anything stupid.” There was a stern, but otherwise loving tone to his voice. It felt good to make Claus entertained, at least for a bit.

 

His brother’s emotion immediately changed. Grinning from ear to ear, he jumped from the path to skid down the entire steep in one fail swoop, landing with a heavy thump at the bottom. What a way to show off, huh? Lucas rolled his eyes, taking his time to slowly make his own way down- he didn’t want to risk breaking his neck, unlike  _ someone  _ in the family.

 

The trek to the main village was pretty long, but completely worth it, due to the scenery alone. At the bottom of the hill lay a small field, dotted with the occasional tree or pond, the same river from the top of the hill breaking off into a thinner stream, winding this way and that through the flatlands. From there, the same forest that Claus had gotten himself lost in, with towering oaks that nearly covered the whole sun. Little breaks of light burst from the leaves, lighting the relatively dark woodland. Lucas had to keep a firm hand on Claus’s, just in case he decided to sprint into buttfuck nowhere.

 

Once they finally broke from the forest, they would be greeted by a massive, massive lakefront. A lake that was absolutely larger than any lake they’ve seen. It mirrored the ocean to human eyes- Lucas nor Claus could see the other edge of the lake from here. The only reason they did know it was a lake was because Lucas’s original journey to explore as far as he could. It had to of  _ least  _ be twenty five miles across. Who knew how deep the thing was.

 

Walking along the lakefront would eventually break off into a smaller forest, right near where grass met sand- and that was where the village was. Already it was bustling; fledgling stores, the skeletons of soon to be made log cabins, the barest remnant of Yado Inn being reopened- it was everything that made Lucas feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, and he couldn’t help but kick up his pace once he saw the village in full view. 

 

“Hey!” Someone was quickly approaching them, it seemed. Dressed in ripped jeans and a worn down t-shirt, a familiar face came into view, coming to a quick halt in front of the brothers, holding his knees as he let out low gasps. Of course, Lucas knew who it was- but Claus seemed to not. He slid behind Lucas, only staring at the figure from behind the taller form of Lucas. 

 

“Hey Fuel- how are you?” Lucas found himself holding his brother’s hand with his own, letting him squeeze it. It was obvious he was quite scared of the ordeal so far. Thankfully for both of them, Fuel didn’t seem to notice.

 

“Good! What are you doing down here today, Luc…” His voice trailed off, finally catching sight of the red-haired boy behind Luc. He felt Claus shrink away at the eventual staring. “Who’s that? Is that Claus?”

 

“M Claus.” Fuel’s face filled with confusion at Claus’s eventual words- it was slurred and slow, absolutely something Fuel had never heard before. Lucas hoped that no one would try to bother his brother- and he took in a sharp breath, staring at his childhood friend with pleading eyes.  _ Please don’t be an ass about this. Please don’t say anything rude. _

 

Thankfully, he knew Fuel. The brunette smiled eventually, letting the thoughts pass him. “Looking chipper than ever, pal! That scar looks absolutely badass.” Lucas let out a breath he forgot he had, and he could practically sense the smile on Claus’s face. So far, so good. 

 

“We’re just here to get a few things then head out.” Lucas waited for Claus to be eventually distracted, and as the redhead wandered to the shoreline to stare off into the waves, he leaned in close to Fuel. His brother had always gotten uninterested when it came to generic conversation, so he assumed Claus would soon wander off. “He’s a bit… different, now. I still love him, don’t worry- just scared someone’ll say something a bit too harsh.”

 

Fuel put his gaze onto Lucas, and nodded. “You’ll always love your brother, everyone in this town knows it.” He snickered. “Be careful around here, Luc. You know how traditional some people are here.” 

 

“Yeah. Let’s hope for the best.”

 

“Yep.”

 

Silence filled the air between the two of them, up until Claus returned with a wet, shiny rock in his shaking palm. “Keeeeeee-Keep safe.” Bidding goodbye to Fuel, the blonde placed the stone in his pocket, patting it to show Claus that it was certainly safe with him.

 

Finally, the two entered Tazmily.

 

He could immediately tell his brother was anxious. Twitching arms, face instantly becoming devoid of emotion, his movements robotic and strange- Lucas saw his brother effectively turn happy and cheery into a husk in a mere ten seconds. He patted his back protectively, and he felt the slightest relaxation in his muscles. But only the slightest. The staring didn’t help, either, and Lucas found himself making his way faster towards the store.

 

When he entered, he felt his own stress release, and he let his twin absently browse while he approached the person behind the counter. Instead of the usual calm hello, he greeted the cashier with an optimistic “This is Hell.”, planting his head on the counter.

 

The person behind the counter promptly rolled her eyes. Nana. “That’s not the way to greet a lady, Lulu. You know this.” 

 

Lucas lifted his head from the counter, eyes bleary, occasionally looking behind him to make sure his brother wouldn’t break anything. His gaze was set firmy on some nut bread, thankfully. Lucas chose to ignore her playful words. “They keep staring at him! I know this is the first time he’s been back but- don’t they have humanity?”

 

“He  _ was  _ the commander of an army who nearly tried to end the world, you know.” Nana responded swiftly, and Lucas groaned. She was right. They hadn’t spent their entire lives growing up with him. They hadn’t spent the past two weeks living with him, watching him do the things he did. All they knew of Claus was what he did. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just. They keep looking at him like he’s-!” He didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to say the word, so his brain made up something on the fly. “-like he’s slow!”

 

Nana looked over at Claus, who was still staring firmly at the bread. Lucas didn’t see any malice in her eyes, just firm curiosity. Looking for the facts in his body posture, appearance, whatever she could get out of him. “He very well may be.” She shrugged, though gave Lucas at least the smallest smile. “But whatever he is, Lulu, Claus is still Claus. He looks like the same energetic kid to me. I’d personally love to hang out with him.” 

 

His twin teetered over on curious nubs, slipping up beside Lucas, looking at Nana, then himself, then back and forth, back and forth. “Thhh. That says.” He points back at the counter where the very small wares sat. “That says nut. It sayssss. Nut. Yeah.” Claus grinned, snickering to himself, his husk melting away just for a moment to show his happiness at the word. 

 

“You want the nut, dear?” Nana’s words made Lucas blush immensely, and he gently nudged Claus away, fearing that his immediate cackle at her words would encourage him to say some. Very weird things.  _ “Nana!” _

 

“What, Lucas?” She was grinning now, snickering to herself, tapping her fingers on the counter. “I’m just offering your brother some nut.”

 

Claus promptly slammed his fist on the counter.  _ “GIVE ME SOME NUT. YEAH!!”  _ Lucas had never heard him so loud. He had never seen him laughing so hard in so long, either. On one hand, he was happy that his brother was happy. But on the other? His brother was practically screaming the word ‘cum’ at the top of his lungs.

 

Nana slipped under the counter, putting a loaf of nut bread on the counter, wrapped and all. “This one’s on the house, you two-” Her wink and snicker was cut short, as the entrance was swiftly opened, then shut.

 

Claus’s happiness filtered away with the entrance of the man, and Lucas felt himself puff up with protective flare. He could already tell who it was- Lighter. Though the man was his father’s best friend from back in the day, he still held an aura of something dark to him, and Lucas was quick to take the bread and lead his brother slightly away from the man.

 

Lighter looked them both up and down. “What’s  _ he  _ doing here?”

 

He knew he was talking about Claus. He spared a glance at his twin, noticing the void of emotion on his face, staring right back at the lumber worker, nearly unmoving. Lucas could feel tension rise in the air. “Oh, we're just here to get some things.”

 

Lighter gave Claus a clear, disgusted look. “And that thing's not on a leash? You don't know what it could do.” Claus, upon hearing words that weren't so savory about him, twitches. Lucas could feel his rising rage, a steady incline into a sharp plateau. 

 

He saw Nana give them a worried glance, before she spoke up. “Claus wouldn't hurt a fly! He's as calm as ever, see? Perfectly cool Claus!” His twin couldn't take the words as easily as Nana or Lucas could, as he soon let out a sharp growl.

 

“It even speaks like an animal.” Lighter snorted, turning his back to the two twins. Lucas let his gaze fall on Claus, and seeing him as upset as he was made a flare of rage rise in his chest. “Excuse me, Lighter, but my twin isn't an animal.” His voice was cool and harsh, nearly glaring at the older man, nearly standing in front of the redhead. 

 

Lighter raised a brow, his disgust still clear as day on his face. “Then, what is he? A sociopath for nearly killing everyone? A mooch for kissing that army's ass? A  _ retard,  _ perhaps? For speaking like a drooling dumbass?”

 

Before Lucas could calm himself down to talk to the other, he felt something behind him shift. He had only seen a blur of movement before Claus was tackling Lighter to the ground, snarling, his claws digging into skin and his voice shrill and enraged.  _ “Shhh-Shut th’-! Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!” _

 

Both Lucas and Nana had to drag the thrashing, screeching form of Claus away from Lighter, his angered screams turning into panicked, sobbing babbles- immediately shrinking down and burying his face against Lucas's chest. Lighter was breathing heavily; a large gash was sunken into his cheek, blood oozing, his eyes filled with cold, burning hatred. “I see how it is. Sick the retard on me then act like victim.”

 

He stumbled to his feet, which Lucas didn't care enough to notice. All he cared about was calming his brother, sending waves of Refresh into his system, helping him slowly calm down into silence. He could hear Nana growl  _ “Leave.”, _ and all he heard of Lighter before he left was “Don't think he'll get away next time. I know who that is. I know he'll just kill us all again. Mark my words.”

 

Lighter spat on the ground, before he left the building.

 

Lucas had never felt more fearful or enraged in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day, huh?


	4. uncontrolling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are said

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Lucas only swore when he was upset, and to be honest, he was _really_ fucking upset at the moment. Cheeks red with anger, arms quivering, eyes unusually dark. Sparks of psychic energy ran through him a mile a minute, and the second he reached his shared home, he sat down heavily on the grass.

 

Claus was following him, he knew for a fact. He could sense the hesitation in his form, his steps more slow and controlled compared to Lucas’s angered stomping. Lucas couldn’t blame him for being more cautious- Claus was obviously embarrassed about his outburst, and still wholly upset about it as well. He was probably scared that Lucas would do something as bad as the man down in Tazmily, maybe even worse.

 

He didn’t say anything, though. He had no words to say to Claus, cause he knew he’d just snap at him without knowing. He just stared ahead at the sunset, feeling the grass subtly move as Claus took a seat beside him. The two sat in silence, breaths heavy, psychics running through them both at top speeds. They both knew that messing with each other would be dangerous.

 

But Claus eventually broke the silence. “Is. H-Hhhe the only…” His voice trailed off, staring at the ground, arm wrapping around his legs as he pulled them close to his chest. Lucas didn’t want to answer that question. He didn’t want to tell him what he thought, because he knew it was the truth, and he knew how upset that would make him. But he knew that keeping secrets from his brother would only delay the inevitable. Claus never let a lie slip past him. “No.”

 

Lucas sighed, mostly to himself, noticing that Claus had become immensely silent. The occasional sniffle or tearful breath he heard was now pure silence, and he took a risk to glance at his twin. Noticing his rigid posture, eye wide and filled with nothing, blood-stained hand digging into his leg, Lucas felt a pang of worry. Of apology. He shouldn’t of said it. He shouldn’t of gave him the answer, because he knew how hard his brother would take it.

 

He had to look away. Eyes looking over the steep of the hill, scanning the horizon, watching the sun slowly begin to creep over the hazy line of the earth. Lucas didn’t want to see his brother, didn’t want to see what his reaction would be. All he could hear was the slight breath leave Claus, breaking the eventual silence, his body gently rocking forward and back. He couldn’t sense any emotion in his presence, all he felt was… void. Void of emotion, void of a pulse, void of anything except empty space.

 

Lucas felt fear crawl at his chest, and he let his teeth sink into his lip as thoughts filled him. Scared thoughts- scared memories. Memories of feeling that same void when he saw Claus during his adventure, back when he didn’t even know it was Claus. Memories of seeing nothing in his brother’s expression. Memories of things Lucas didn’t want to think about. He found himself scooting away from his brother, past the threshold of that eerie void, back into the world, and he let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he had.

 

His eyes glanced back towards his twin, and what he saw made that fear slightly elevate. Claus was sitting, his legs dangling over the side of the hill, still rigid, but less so. His back was slightly bent, leaning over the edge of the steep, head turned, red eye boring directly into Lucas. His left arm was nearly glowing- his veins shiny and bright through the skin of the semi-amputated appendage. Instantly turning away from his brother, Claus muttered something, little sparks of psychics dancing on his arm.

 

“What did you say.” It wasn’t a question from Lucas, not in the slightest- it was a command, stern and tense. His voice was strained, the stress and paranoia from earlier that day making the young blonde’s patience thinner than what he intended.

 

Claus curled himself up into a tight bull, a short hum leaving him. “S noth-nothin.”

 

“Claus.” He knew his brother was saying something. Eyebrows creasing, Lucas chose to stand on his feet, looking down at the redhaired male with his arms crossing over his chest. It was obvious to the both of them that Lucas didn’t want to mess around anymore; that Claus was poking his toes over the line of his patience. _“Claus._ Tell me.”

 

He watched as his brother gave him a glare, puffing up with irritation, his crimson eye nearly glowing as he stumbled himself into a standing position. Claus sputtered, stuttering out a new nonsense sounds before he eventually blurted “You- you didn’t let me-! You didn’t let me k-kk. Kill him!” His voice rose into a shrill squeak, his wings flapping wildly with his own emotion, and Lucas saw his emotion spill from his chest and out into the world.

 

To be truthful, Lucas was taken aback. “Why would- why would I _let you kill him?”_ Lucas could feel his own emotion build, and he didn’t have the energy or the care to keep it under wraps. He had spent all day keeping himself strained, keeping himself together for the sake of Claus. If his twin was going to let everything go, then he damn well had the right to do the same thing. “That is _not_ the thing to do in that situation!”

 

Claus’s nubbed leg was tapping on the ground a mile a minute, his eye not quite meeting Lucas’s. It was looking this way and that, deliberately anywhere that wasn’t Lucas. “That’s not- what. I mmm- meant!” Grabbing his head with his clawed hand, he growled, mostly to himself. “Y-You. I know what you. Thoughtt. What you’re thinking! Nowww-!”

 

“Thinking what! Claus, what am I thinking.” Lucas’s emotion, though flared in the moment, only seemed to build as his brother tried to speak. The blonde tried to keep his instincts to himself; tried to keep his anger and annoyance under control. He tried to reason with himself, that Claus was only trying to _speak,_ that he was doing nothing inherently wrong. But it was as if he was set on autopilot. Lucas’s hands exploded into psychic flames, his eyes glaring daggers at his twin. Was it good to freak out this much over something so small, something so small that his brother was accusing him of? It wasn’t, not in the slightest. Lucas just needed a way to let his anger out, and the tiny outburst he intended to have just escalated into this.

 

He chose not to think about it too much. He’d just feel terrible. And to Lucas- he went through too much to not deserve this.

 

Claus visibly twitched at the sight, but he spoke despite his obvious hesitation. “You think I’m. I’m r-retar-” He stopped his words, and Claus hissed to himself, stomping his stump against the ground angrily. His hand was curling into a fist, still not quite staring at Lucas.

 

“I do _not_ think that. What I do think? What I _know?”_ Lucas growled, and he took a few steps closer to his twin, watching as his brother took a few panicked paces back. “I know that you’re acting like a _child_ right now! People think whatever they want, not everyone is going to love you. Get over it!” Lucas didn’t realize he was shouting until he saw Claus cover one of his ears with his hand, his once anger-filled expression filled with fear. The pure sight of his brother, shaking and filled with terror, immediately made Lucas widen his eyes.

 

What was he _doing?_

 

“Get away fr-from mme.” Claus’s voice was thick with held back emotion, and he let sparks of electricity run up his arms. A warning. Lucas’s own flames had died down at that point, his chest and mind and entire body filled his own emotions. Emotions he didn’t know he had. “Wait, wait, Claus, I’m sorry-”

 

 _“Get away from me!”_ Lightning burst from his arms, and Lucas could just barely dodge it, the loud crack causing him to close his eyes and cover his ears. When he opened them, breath heavy, he saw that his twin was clumsily stumbling down the hill, tripping and falling multiple times, before he shoved himself through the trees and into the dark woods. The lightning that had been struck had blasted a tree, leaving it burning and crumbling mere feet away from Lucas. The blonde was trembling, only imagining what he would of been if it struck him.

 

By this time, the moon was high in the sky, and Lucas just realized that they had been butting heads for at least a few hours. His throat burned, and he swallowed thickly, slowly stumbling to his feet. Guilt was creeping up his spine, filling his entire being, and he let out slow breaths of pain and exhaustion.

 

By the time he was turning his head, the forms of both Duster and Kumatora were coming out of their tents, concern etched on their faces. Lucas was too tired, too wobbly on his knees to meet them, and the both of them made their way over to the scene of the crime. Duster was the first one to speak.

 

“We… heard everything.”

 

The two looked at each other, watching as Lucas stared off into the far woods. He wanted to go after his brother, he wanted to go make sure his twin was _okay._ It was the only thing that kept him from passing out, and without warning, he wordlessly tried to follow Claus’s path. Something grabbed him and stopped him.

 

“Woah there, Buster.” Duster pulled Lucas back, and Lucas didn’t even try to fight. Instead, he just spoke, his voice soft and quiet. “He’ll just die out there, this late.” Even with his words, he was led away by Duster, the older man giving a curt nod to Kumatora. She paused, glancing at the two of them, before nodding and turning to slide down the hill, and disappear into the forest.

 

“He’ll most likely try to kill you on sight-” Lucas let out something of a hiss, and Duster paused, reconsidering his words. As the two sat down on the grass, moon high in the sky, he finally resumed his sentence. “He’s. Not ready to see you. Too soon.” Lucas knew he was right, he knew it would be foolish to try and pursue Claus right now. Kumatora would hopefully find him. Fuck- what had he said to him? _Why_ had he said it to him?

 

“People say things they regret saying. _I_ have. Don’t take it close to heart.” He felt Duster’s hand on his shoulder, heard his deep voice filter through the night, and something, _something_ between the two of those factors seemed to slowly settle him down. God, he hoped Claus would be okay. “If he dies out there, I’ll-”

 

A pause. Something was felt in his chest. He knew Claus would be okay.


	5. tane tane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> seeing something you shouldn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its ninten time >:)

He ran as fast as he could. He ran and ran and ran, his nubs slipping and sliding every few moments, ears ringing. Claus felt as if his world was shrunken down to only his thoughts; only his movements, only what he saw and only what he could imagine to see. That’s all he wanted to see at the moment, anyway.

 

The only thing he heard was the whistle of the wind past him, the crunch of leaves under his legs, and the gasping breath that shuddered from his lips. But everything- his mind, his body, his imagination made it all escalate. It was barely any sound, but to Claus it was deafening, and he let out a strangled cry, trying his absolute best to cover his ears- but to no avail. All he could do was run, and all he could do was feel his ears explode due to the sounds.

 

Claus couldn’t tell how long he was running. He didn’t know how long his breath had been gasps, he didn’t know how long he had been trying to outrun his own thoughts. He only did what his body told him to, and they told him to run. Everything a blur, everything a deafening scream. No matter what he saw or heard, he kept running.

 

But not for long.

 

Something flashed in his eyesight- something nearly white, something glowing so much that it burned his sight and mind. He felt himself slip, and Claus came crashing to the floor, a sharp crack resonating through the air as his face came in contact with the forest floor. Pain exploded into his face, and he sucked in a sharp breath, hand moving to cover his face as he slowly lifted himself on his elbows and knees. His nose felt… off. It felt as if it was covered in something sticky and warm. Pulling his hand away, he noticed that it was covered in blood, slick and wet, and Claus looked deep into it.

 

_He was lying on that cave floor, spatting blood. All he could do was stare down at it-_

Claus leaned over, stomach heaving, and promptly threw up.

 

Minutes passed, and Claus could see that same glowing figure out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to look upwards- he suspected that this figure, whatever it was, was something sinister. Something he didn’t trust. Something he didn’t _want_ to see. But something in his body made him shift. Something made his chin flick upwards, made his crimson gaze land upwards, and he saw.

 

Himself.

 

Glowing with ethereal light, it was himself. Helmet planted firmly on his head, arm fused into what seemed to be a firearm, blade clutched in a gloved hand. It was him, but it _wasn’t._ It was him, him in a form he could barely make out. He didn’t know where this form of him came from. But it was there, and he was there, and they were looking at each other, this glowing figure devoid of any emotion. Nothing. Only void.

 

Only robotic.

 

Panic flared in his body. Terror seized him, and Claus cried out, covering his bleeding, cowering face, blasting a hot gust of fire into the ethereal clone. It disappeared into a whisp, nothing but a speck, but Claus’s fear was still elevated. It was still there, feeding off of the pitch black forest, messing with his mind and making him see things that he didn’t know was even there.

 

Claus wanted to go home.

 

It only took him a few moments to stand and turn, taking a few panic filled steps before another figure came into view. Someone who looked just like him, but different. Someone who he instantly recognized. With his left arm viciously shredded into nothing, bone exposed and flesh red; with his right eye and face completely ravaged until it was a pulsing, bleeding twist of meat, his brother, his _twin_ stood in front of him, hatred filling his blue gaze.

 

His mouth didn’t open, but Claus could hear his words, shaking him to his very core, making him shuffle and stumble. **_“I’m glad it was you. You deserved every single shred of pain you got. It’s what you deserve- you’re just a filthy robot.”_ **

 

Claus felt his breath quickening, heart rate a panicked series of thumps, tears pricking at the corners of his eye. He wanted to speak, he wanted to tell this figure of his brother that he _wasn’t_  a robot, he wanted to ask why, why did he even let him live if he deserved all this? “I’m- I’m nnnnot-”

 

The figure of Lucas shifted and changed before his eyes. Arms and legs growing longer and splitting into twos and thirds, back exploding into a glass container, the figure inside a cold, blue husk. Lucas’s voice was mixed with someone he didn’t know, someone he had forgotten, but someone who he was instantly afraid of. **_“You really are as stupid as Lighter said, aren’t you? Cowering in the middle of a forest. Imagine what Lucas would think. Imagine what Hinawa would think. She would be disgusted.”_ ** With a gross, wet crack, the twisted flesh and mechanical being took steps closer, making Claus panic and back up as fast as he could. **_“While your brother was saving the world from your malicious mistakes, you were a fucking slave to Porky. You were useless. Only good for killing innocents and pulling needles that would kill everyone. And now you’re too dumb to realize that? Everyone hates you. Everyone wants you dead. Everyone would rather you be a pile of flesh and bones. Go rot in this forest; Lucas wouldn’t care. He’d laugh in your pathetic face. He’d-”_ **

 

Claus ran away from the creature, as fast as he could. Tears were streaming down his face, mixing with his blood, his mouth twisted into a grimace, arms twitching and shaking. He didn’t know what it was, what it was saying, he didn’t want to know what it was- all he did was run as far as he could, fleeing away from the robotic, messy monstrosity. But as he ran, he passed more and more figures. In the darkness of the forest, he saw glimpses-

 

His mother’s rotting corpse.

 

Himself on an examination table, torn to pieces.

 

Himself, ripping Lucas’s throat open.

 

His father broken and blooded.

 

Needles after needles, pulling at him, trying to tug him close, wherever he went.

 

Voices upon voices and voices, mixing in an indistinguishable choir of hate filled spats. Insults and insults, telling him he deserved what he got. Telling him he was the most stupid creature in the world, telling him he should be ripped to shreds and left to die. Telling him he was pathetic. Useless. Dumb. Sociopathic. Murderous. A useless pathetic dumb sociopathic murderous slave, who’s only use was to make sure his mom was dead. It was all too much, and when Claus eventually tripped and fell on the ground once more, all he could do was sob. Hand balled into a fish, slamming against the grass, letting out deep, ugly, _pathetic_ sobs that wracked his entire body.

 

Because that’s what he was.

 

As he cried, the voices died away. The calls and calls of everyone he knew began to grow quiet, and Claus could feel their ethereal stares, boring into his back, silent and judging. They shut up, because they knew that it had worked. They had gotten to Claus. Only a few weeks into this new world, this new life, and already Claus felt everything catch up with him.

 

He could hear the crunching of leaves behind him. He did nothing.

 

The twisted, spider _thing_ approached him. Still dripping from Lucas’s blood, still covered in stretched, bloodied skin and flesh. It reached out it’s hand, sharp as a _needle,_ rising above Claus. Ready to strike, ready to end it. Ready to watch Claus writhe like the worm he was, ready to watch his eye roll to the back of his head. Ready to watch him die.

 

Claus felt a hand gently land on his back.

 

His head snapped to the side, staring behind him, vision filled with tears and grogginess. At first he didn’t know _what_ he was looking at, until his vision cleared, and he saw someone he vaguely recognized. It was that boy.

 

“Leave me a-aloone.” He slurred weakly, slowly shifting to sit on his knees. That hand wouldn’t leave his back, and at first, Claus wanted to shoot him. He wanted him to _leave,_ because he didn’t know whether or not he was even real. He didn’t know if he’d hurt him. He didn’t know if he’d laugh at him for being who he was. A disgusting robot.

 

“No.” The redhead perked. He had never heard his voice before, and hell, it was awfully strange. It was filled with an accent he couldn’t place, light and calm, and Claus looked back at an expression that copied it. “You looked sad. Are you sad?”

 

Claus sniffed. “Yeh.”

 

The boy shifted, sitting across from him, criss cross, watching him with strange, foreign eyes. They almost seemed to glow in the night. “That’s bad. Being sad is bad.” He didn’t notice that the strange male had taken his hand in his, until he felt his fingers being moved, and saw that his claws were being closely inspected. “You have blood on there. Some hours old. Some new. Did you hurt anyone?”

 

He didn’t want to talk to this boy. “N-Nunya.” He responded with a teary growl, and slowly turned, taking his arm with him. This strange figure didn’t seem to get the picture at all. He nearly moved like a snake- slithering to sit in front of him again, his calm expression now filtering into concern. “I’m sorry if I made you sad.”

 

Playing with his bandanna, the figure paused, before he smiled at Claus. He noticed his teeth were sharp. “My name’s Nezrin. You can call me Ninten. You look like someone who would want my name.” That wasn’t the case, at all. All Claus wanted to do was lie down and die. “I saw you before. You gave me this back. Is that right?”

 

A slow, curt nod. He was deliberately looking away from this… thing.

 

Ninten didn’t seem bothered. He smiled, creeping close. “You’re nice, aren’t you? I bet you are. That’s why I’m sad that you’re sad. Sad is. Well, sad.” The voice of Ninten, though strange, was strangely comforting, in a way. Calm and collected, but friendly and kind. It reminded him of Lucas, in a way. But much weirder. He decided then and there that he’d give him his name.

 

“I’m. My. Cl-Claus.” Ninten’s face lit up with his words, and Claus couldn’t help but smile, despite the pain in his body, and the blood gushing from his nose and down his chin. “Claus.”

 

Ninten’s voice grew quiet, almost whimsical. “Claus. What a name.” He stood, still looking down at the appearance of the redhead. His glowing yellow eyes gazed, curiously glancing over his form. Ninten was awfully weird, very much so. The curious stare was only proof of that. But Claus? Claus felt… calmer. All the thoughts that had exploded in his mind only minutes before slowly melted, mere presence of the boy causing his body to relax. “Would you like to come play with me? I can show you where I live. It’s a whizz.”

 

Claus immediately nodded, not thinking that any bad implications could come from a strange boy in the middle of the woods at night. “That. H. F-ffffun.” Ninten took his hand, and with a gentle tug, the two were standing, face to face. Claus noticed the other smelled like smoke and plants.

 

As Ninten crept forward, Claus followed. “You. W-wweird- weird.” they sound of crunching leaves and soft chattering of the two drifted off as the two new friends blended into the trees and shrubs of the forest. The last thing heard was Ninten’s voice, calm and soft, laughing as he lightly spoke.

 

“You’re weird too. I like that.”


	6. meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> around the fire

Ninten led him through the forest, and Claus felt a sense of excitement burn though his belly. He had come to realize that besides his brother and everyone else back at home, he had no _actual_ friends. So quickly coming along with this new stranger, who proved to like him just as much as he liked him, it was something that made his stomach burn and his head light with happiness. He would of skipped like a joyful schoolgirl, if not for the fact he’d likely fall and break his nose even more so upon impact.

 

“Wh-where…” He paused to catch his breath, before shaking his head and quickly racing to catch up with Ninten. “...do you live?” He suspected, in the smallest part of his brain, that this young boy lived in Tazmily. But the mere thought of that being a possibility sent fear sliding down his throat. No, _no._ He wasn’t living in Tazmily, right? He was too weird to be liked there! He lived somewhere else, and they would have lots of fun together somewhere else because of that.

 

Ninten, who had been balancing on a log as they walked, spoke. “Somewhere fun. It looks really awesome.” Claus noticed that the other’s sneakers seemed to be curling strangely; grasping a hold of the log, making it easier for the boy to scale across. A thought occurred in his brain: _boys don’t do that._ Feet didn’t bend like that. But… he let the thought leave him. Claus was the definition of something boys weren’t. He was wholly the opposite of what someone was. Who was he to judge of weird feet?

 

“I b-bet. It has. F-fffffire. ‘N epic stuff.” Claus grinned to himself at the idea. Ninten living in a really cool castle, with spires of flame exploding into the air, and long corridors and hallways and booby traps. Maybe he could ask if Lucas, Duster and the others could live with him? They would have their own whole castle! And he would be the hero of finding a home, not Lucas, but Claus instead. _Claus the Hero._ He let the thought sink in.

 

Yeah, that sounded good. He’d have to write that down.

 

Claus continued. “Withhh. Uhh. A big la-aaaake. Of lava. ‘Round it.” He waved his arms in a circle, and Ninten laughed, hopping off the log and following Claus with a slithering creep. “Like a moat?” Ninten’s genuine curiosity in his voice made the redhead puff with pride, little wings unfurling to their not so impressive size. Claus nodded confidently, his own tone raising an octave to exclaim. “Yes!”

 

A few birds squawked and flew away at the noise. The two boys looked up in surprise, silent, before they both melted into snickers and giggles. “A moat would be really cool. We could make one around my house.”

 

Taking a few hopping steps forwards, Ninten gripped a large stick that was on the forest floor, taking a moment to draw a circle in the dirt. “Like this. But really deep, and filled with. Dangerous stuff.”  Claus scooted himself over, looking down at the dirt circle, gears running in his brain. Reaching his hand out, he drew his own little shapes in the circle, his claw scraping in the dirt, eventually coming out to draw four, shaky figures. “That’s. Ussss… behind th’ moat.” He could tell Ninten was looking down at the shakily drawn stick people, cocking his head to the side. Eventually, he spoke, voice raised in a question. “Who are they?”

 

“Well.” Claus thought to himself, staring down at them, sticking his tongue out in concentration. “That’s me. I hhave. No- no a-arrrm.” He continued to the next three. “That’s you. That’s m-my ffriend. Dust. Uhh.. Yeh. And that’s… K-Kuma.” He couldn’t speak their full names without giving up completely. Instead of trying to focus on his friend’s name, he moved to draw another figure outside the circle. His brows creased.

 

“That’s L-Loocas.”

 

Ninten came forth, looking down at the little drawing in the dirt. “Why’s he outside the moat?” Crouching, the black haired male looked between the circle and the stick figure outside of it. Claus was looking away.

 

“H-He’s a bitch right noww.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Ninten didn’t seem bothered by it for to long. Instead he stood, still holding onto the stick, waving it around before eventually tossing it aside. Claus, stumbling to his legs, followed behind at a shorter speed. With a small hop, he reached the other, where he began speaking again, seemingly completely forgetting the little bout of silence a few moments before. “We can decorate my house with other stuff. Like big flowers on it. Or we can dig out a little pond. We can hide something in there.” Claus, nodding along with his words, felt the smallest bit of unwanted emotion prick him. He should be helping everyone else he knew with their projects… But he eventually shook it off. He was angry at his brother! He didn’t _want_ to help with some stupid building project!

 

“A-aand a big wall. Keep oth-of..others. Out-!...” By this point, the two boys were leaving the edge of the forest, the sight of an all too familiar lake coming into view. Noticing all the water, Claus realized how dirty he was right now. Covered in dirt and blood, it probably looked like he’d been mauled by a bear. The redhead wiped his nose the best he could as Ninten came to a halt. “Hey Claus!” He called him over, and he came bounding over, stopping beside his new friend.

 

Ninten was pointing forward, his eyes shining with curiosity. Noting the wonder in his tone, Claus looked to where he was pointing. Deep into the night, back where the hazy sight of sand and grass melted into nothing, he saw specks of light. Seeing them made Claus’s brain prick with familiarity, but he didn’t wholly remember what he’d been looking at. Or, well, he didn’t recognize it. “Look over there. There’s lights.” Ninten took a few steps forward, before he began to march, Claus scuttling behind. Claus… didn’t like where this was going. Something was telling him this isn’t right.

 

The two began to creep closer to the lights. With each step they took, Claus became more and more anxious, until he almost felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He stopped, fear in his eyes, and Ninten took a slow halt. “Are you okay?” There was concern in his voice, glowing yellow eyes blinking back at him. Taking a few paces back towards Claus, he took his shoulders, holding them firmly. The redhead could feel them. He let out a shaky breath. “We can go back if you want to.”

 

Claus eventually shook his head. “We. We can g-gooo.” He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to enter that area where the lights were. He didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t want to go there to find out. Ninten studied him, eyes slightly narrowed, before he pulled back.

 

“Okay.”

 

The presence of Ninten made him slowly calm down. Made his muscles relax, made his heart slow, made everything slowly calm until he was, while still anxious, much calmer than what he had been moments before. Their steps, each making the sand shift below, were more slow and cautious; despite the fact that they weren’t in any immediate danger.

 

It wasn’t until Claus made out the outlines of buildings and tents when he began to panic once more. His hand curled into a fist, claws digging into his dirty palm, shaking lightly as he sucked in deep, uncomfortable breaths. But, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to make Ninten sad, he didn’t want to upset him or anger him by making him go all this way, just to turn around. He didn’t speak as they creeped into the outskirts of Tazmily, and didn’t speak as he caught sight of people in the middle of the fledgling community. He didn’t speak at all.

 

Claus found himself hiding behind one of the very few houses, Ninten shuffling next to him, not nearly as afraid, but instead curious. “There’s people over there.” He whispered, pointing around the edge of the cabin. “And a big fire. That’s what the lights were, I bet.” The redhead could only nod.

 

He wanted to look around the edge, he wanted to see what was back there. He wanted to desperately see if they were talking about _him,_ to see if those people really did hate him as much as they said. But something kept him in place. Something mysterious, something ethereal held him there, unseeing chains tying him to the ground. He was too scared to go.

 

Ninten noticed. He gently shook him by the shoulder, knocking the redhead out of his thoughts. “I can hear them talking. Are you okay? Do you wanna hear?” Claus looked at him, only seeing concern in those reptilian eyes, and he eventually gave a shaky nod. He could do this. He was safe.

 

Both boys slowly looked around the corner of the cabin, quickly noticing the sight of a group of people, around a massive campfire. A particular figure stood near the middle of the group, his voice raised for all to hear. _“You think we should just let that thing run around alive here? Fuck no! I say we end it’s miserable life once and for all.”_

 

His voice was filled his malice, and Claus immediately wanted to shrink away. But he did nothing, wanting to listen. Wanting to listen in on what they thought of _him,_ because he knew it was about him. He could vaguely remember a voice like that.

 

Heads turn among the group, a murmur of talk rippling through the crowd. Eventually, another voice spoke up; younger than the first, but carrying the same drawl. “Dad- everything’s different now. We don’t have to hate him, he’s done nothing wrong!” Someone else, a female voice, piped up. “Fuel’s right, you know. Claus… I know he isn’t murderous. He wouldn’t harm a fly.”

 

“Wouldn’t harm a fly?” The original voice nearly snarled his words, pointing his hand toward his shrouded face. Claus’s hand, still filled with blood, itched something he couldn’t place. He barely noticed it. “That bastard robbed me of half my _eyesight!_ That’s more than a fucking fly.” Another ripple of talk went through the group, and eventually, an older voice made itself known. While Claus could recognize the three as people he heard, this one was completely different, though it still sent a shiver of fear creep in his belly.

 

“Lighter’s right.” The voice spoke, no hate in his voice, just a simple matter of fact tone. “No matter how it was in the past, it’s been changed into a monster. I wouldn’t be surprised if Porky was still behind it.” Silence came across the crowd, and Claus himself felt his breath leave him. A cold numbness. No one had spoken of his name ever since the needle was pulled, and the introduction of the word made everyone second guess themselves. Claus included.

 

“Lucas’s logic has been clouded by nostalgia, the poor boy. It won’t be long until we find him choking on his own blood, due to that thing. I say next few sunrises, he go over to where Lucas lives and kill him right then and there. Kill them all, if they resist.”

 

Another silence follows, the air around the crowd suddenly grim. “Or we can lure them both here. The twins.” Yet another voice rose to be heard. “Lighter said it’s fucked in the head. Is that right?” The main figure- Lighter, Lighter, that fucking _disgusting piece of human trash-_ nodded, and Claus felt a growl grow to the back of his throat. “You’re absolutely right, Abbot. That things more retarded than Porky. We could lure him over with a fishing pole and bait, it’d be easy.” While a small laugh went through the crowd, both the hiding boys noticed a few of them were silent.

 

“Wait, Dad, you don’t have to kill him-!” Fuel’s voice, which was supported with that same female tone, was cut short by the much older voice. “Hush. You’re only children, you don’t have a say in this.” A pause, and the two younger voices died down, shadowed heads hung low. They spoke in unison. “Yes, Wes.” The older voice continued. “We head out in one month’s time. Prepare yourselves, they’ve got powers we can’t imagine about. Don’t show any malice to Lucas or the other two. If you’ve found that beast, bring it here. _Got it?”_

 

The crowd agreed, some voices reluctant, some eager. “Good. Dismissed-” Lighter’s voice was cut off, and Claus sucked in a deep breath. Whipping his head to the side, he caught sight of Ninten, eyes narrowed to slits, the log cabin burning, his hands alight. For a moment, Claus felt as if Ninten wanted to kill him, but Ninten spoke before the redhead could. _“That’s mean.”_ He snarled, voice quiet, and Claus hushed him.

 

Giving a panicked look around the cabin, he let out a yelp, seeing that Lighter was quickly advancing. The two caught sight, eye to eye, before Lighter’s expression became filled with hate. Claus took hold of his friend, immediately getting to his feet, shouting _“Run!”_ before he raised his arm.

 

Fear filled him, filled to his core, and in his panic, he acted. A blast of freezing ice came from his severed arm, not bothering to watch the damage, turning and sprinting as fast as he could, away from the village. Ninten was right beside him, no discernable expression on his face, eventually taking Claus’s hand as they ran.

 

Claus didn’t know how long he was running. Fear made everything blur, and each and every turn became numb to him. The only thing that screamed in his brain was to run, to run and never turn back, because he’d die if he went back. He’d be tortured. He’d be tortured until he was nothing but a pile of twitching organs.

 

After what seemed like years, or like seconds- they came to a halt. Falling on his knees, Claus vomited a second time that day, Ninten’s heavy breaths beside him. Claus wanted to go home now. He wanted to go home and say sorry, and tell everyone that they’ll kill him, they’ll kill them _all._ But all he did was lie there, chest burning, legs shaking.

 

He could feel Ninten’s hand on his shoulder. “Can you stand up, Claus?” He wanted to say no, he couldn’t, but Ninten’s voice was enough to get him to shift. He slowly stood, looking behind him fearfully, before slowly turning his head to stare ahead.

 

He stood at the end of the river, in a small dip of the forest, stones and grass and shrubs filling the otherwise barren space. They were right near the edge of a cliff face, and Claus let his breath slow. A small but speedy waterfall was crashing down into the tiny lake that filled the bottommost area of the dip, the rock smooth and shiny where the speckles of water hit. Ninten’s voice made him only more calm. “This is my house.”

 

Oh. So that's what it was.

 

Claus took a few paces forward, amazed by the sight before him, but something made him shift. And fall, and land on the ground. A thought stirred in his mind, and it stayed there, filtering in and out of his head as blackness edged at the corners of his vision.

 

_Huh. I'm tired._

 

Claus blacked out.


	7. guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a talk and some visitors

He didn’t know where Claus was.

 

Lucas had been sure that his brother would of returned by now. Beside Kumatora, stumbling over in the early hours of the morning, whatever it may be. He hoped, no, he  _ knew  _ that he’d be fine. But, where was he? Where was his brother? The absence, though only in a day’s time, was already making him panic. Making him associate. 

 

His fingers ran through the grass anxiously, his body propped up against a tree, a series of sticks and stones near him. Duster had suggested they finally start building, mostly to ease something in the young blonde’s mind, but as of now it was futile. As Lucas tried to weld and bend hammers and saws into existence, all he could think about was Claus. Claus’s dead body lying in the woods, Claus being killed by reckless animals or vicious people, Claus running away, fully hating his twin. The last anxious thought was especially heart wrenching to the boy, and he found himself snapping a thick, resilient stick with bursts of PK Fire. 

 

As the embers swirled in the air, and Lucas rubbed the splinters to blot out the flames, he told himself to calm down. To calm down, because he knew his brother couldn’t hate him. No, that had to not be the case. His brother loved him, he was just… Lost. Kumatora didn’t look hard enough. He was probably just playing in the trees without a care in the world.

 

His anxiety didn’t quell, even with his thoughts.

 

The sound of approaching footsteps finally bid him away from his thoughts. Looking upwards, he noticed the sight of Kumatora, the older female sitting down next to him without another word. Taking a stick for her own, she began to make tools that Lucas couldn’t, the two quickly coming to work together. The silence between them left Lucas’s fears fading, and eventually, with growing courage, the blonde spoke. “Hey, Kuma.”

 

She spared him a glance, a friendly smirk etched into her features. “Pretty peachy, how about you?” Lucas nodded, a small yes to her question. Though, both of them knew they weren’t peachy in the slightest. The small greeting slowly went back into silence. So much for friendly conversation.

 

Kuma eventually stood, a brand new hammer in her hands, swinging it experimentally against a rock. Thankfully, with that and assistance with some psychics, it shattered the poor thing into pebbles. Lucas noted her swing was much more quick and violent compared to her normal brass body language, and he found concern creeping up his chest. “Are you okay?”

 

She didn’t wait to try to deny her actual feelings. It seemed she took Lucas’s words as an invitation, immediately going off. “Not really, no. Other than the main fucking issue we have with the entire world being brand new - not to mention we’re basically cavemen now -, my mind’s been fucked up with my own thoughts. Never thought I’d be insecure, but I sure as fuck feel so now.” Her voice carried as she went back to the pile of resources, kicking back to weld a saw into place with white hot fire. “Eight parents tell me I’ll be great, I’ll protect something just as good as the Needles, right? Wrong. Here I am, making shitty tools with sticks and rocks. Yay me, O Great Princess, not doing shit. Not that I hate you guys, absolutely not- I’d rather suck Duster’s try ass titty than move from here to Tazmily. But considering the fact I’ve lost your fucking brother, which is  _ not an easy thing to do,  _ I feel very fucking not okay, not at all.”

 

Kumatora sucked in a deep breath, before letting it all out. Something in her shoulders slumped, tapping her foot on the ground idly. Hell, she didn’t seem all that upset, just wholly irritated. Lucas ambled over. “I don’t…” He was at a loss for words, really. What could he say? “I don’t think you’re bad?”

 

The pink haired female rolled her eyes, smiling despite her recent rant. “An ambassador for compassion, I see. I’m shaking in my boots. I’ve never been more afraid in my life.” Checking the saw with her finger, she gently sliced the makeshift blade over her finger. As it easily cut into her finger, she nodded, sticking the finger in her mouth to suck at the tiny trickle of blood.

 

“Well.” Lucas sat down beside her, crossing his arms over his knees as he sat. “I don’t think you’re ‘not doing shit’. You’re making tools and building and stuff. Plus you hunt over here, the rest of us are kinda. Well, not good at it.” Lucas couldn’t forget the first few days after the new world was created, when Kumatora came to camp with a dead deer behind her, blood covering her arms like a wild animal. Thankfully, she didn’t kill animals like that anymore.

 

“Yeah, but.” Kumatora looked down at the ground, a hand on her cheek, propping her head up. “It doesn’t feel  _ important.  _ I don’t feel important. I feel like. Just another average person.” Lucas thought to himself idly, fingers playing with themselves, thinking of a way to respond to the other. “Not everyone has to be important. Or special. Sometimes just being average is okay.” Lucas would much rather be an average kid than  _ this.  _ Saving the world wasn’t as cool as it was in the storybooks.

 

“I mean,” Lucas continued, taking a stick and attempting to sharpen it into the tip point of a dagger. “Duster isn’t all that special. No PK, no crazy hair or weird twin. He’s just Duster. And I love and respect him just as much as I do everyone else. My Dad isn’t that special either, he’s just a cowboy. I love him just as much, too.” Lucas caught the sight of the other’s eyes, staring at him, causing the blonde’s face to erupt into a deep flush.

 

“Did- Did I say something wrong?” Kumatora’s laugh caught him off guard, smiling, temporarily joyful. “Nah. Don’t be alarmed, Lulu. I’m just remembering why you were so good at being the leader of our little posse. Even if you are a squirt.” Without warning, Kumatora leapt forward, pinning the blonde to the ground, digging her fist into his hair. Lucas squealed in alarm, arms flailing, letting out calls for an uncle he never had.

 

Just as Kumatora was pulling away from him, Lucas fussing over his hair like a panicked child, they both noticed the limping step of Duster approach. The young male had been down in Tazmily that morning, with the intent of getting some wood, but it seemed he was back a lot more earlier than normal; with the presence of two other people, no less.

 

Lucas noticed Kumatora get up and walk over to her friend, her grin intact but her troubled look still prominent. Lucas wasn’t offended- getting over massive internal drama was a lot harder than just having a small talk and getting over it. He was still upset with a lot of things, even if it did happen years ago. “Hey guys.” Duster sheepishly said, waving idly at the two before he motioned towards the two new guests. “Uhm. Fuel said he’d come and help us chop down wood up here. She just came along to… come along?” The person beside Fuel gave a short wave. It was Nana.

 

“Yeah! We’re here. To help.” Fuel’s voice, a drawl, was filled with anxiousness and anticipation. Nana, though a lot more composed than Fuel was, still held the gaze of someone keeping a lot of untold secrets. Lucas was immediately curious, and slightly, concerned. 

 

Were they nervous because they found Claus dead? Were they nervous cause Claus had killed someone down in Tazmily? So many thoughts of fear filled his head, and Lucas could only curl his fists behind his back, his outward appearance as cheery as he could muster. No, he was fine. They weren’t going to give any bad news. He was fine.

 

Fuel scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “So. Me and Duster are gonna chop down some trees. Does anyone wanna join us?” Kumatora, much to the two Tazmilian’s relief, was quick to jump to the chase. In fact, Kumatora looked relieved herself, giving Duster a knowing look of ‘we need to talk like, right now’. Duster nodded. All of them could sense of awkwardness and caution like a dense fog. “Alright. Let’s head out. Don’t set the place on fire while I’m gone.” Duster gave Lucas and Nana a wink and a snicker, before heading off with the other two.

 

Nana immediately advanced on him.

 

“Where’s Claus?” She came to instantly ask, her tone strained, fear in her eyes. Her hands were clasped together, near painfully so, knuckles white arms shaking. Lucas immediately felt the fear she had seep into him. “He ran away last night at sunset. Why?”

 

“We just. We need to find him. Right now.” Nana’s voice became even more strained, her eyes glancing this way and that, not able to Look at Lucas in any way, shape, or form. It was as if she had been caught trying to steal something. 

 

Lucas, though he felt doubt fill his chest and throat, nearly choking him, was immediate to run into the large canvas tent of his home, digging through his belongings. He left Nana there without a word, his fears coming true as he dug and dug and dug through that old, rickety drawer. He knew Claus couldn’t be out there on his own. He knew that he should’ve fucking  _ followed  _ him! He knew he should of protected him, cause goddamnit, now he was most likely dead out in the forest, maggots ready to take hold in his body. 

 

He was not ready to lose his brother, not again.

 

Lucas grabbed what he thought he’d need- a small dagger, a pack filled with dried fruits and jerky, with a blanket being stuck in there just in case Claus needed it, as well as some backup clothes. The second he raced back out, he handed the dagger to Nana. He didn’t need it.

 

“Let’s go.” Lucas ran to race down the hill, feet skidding across the dirt, Nana quick to follow behind him. As he ran, he placed a hand in his pocket, pulling out the stone Claus had given him only a day before.

 

He glared at it, glared at the smooth, shiny surface, before he shoved it back into his pocket. As Lucas entered the darkened canopy of the forest, Nana at his heels, he thought.

 

Claus was not okay.


	8. facade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pain

Claus’s body was warm.

 

His breath slow, chest barely moving, eye closed gently. He felt like he was adrift in nothing, pushing him along like he was in a current, everything forgotten except the feeling of calm. It was… nice, in a way. It was a place where he could completely forget; forget about everything that would give him turmoil or pain. Claus frankly wanted to stay there for all eternity, stay there so he could not think for the rest of his life. Just let himself be slipped and pushed around by this strange force.

 

But as he felt a drop of water hit his nose, he slowly opened his eye. At first, he didn’t know where he was. As far as he could tell, he was somewhere dark. Somewhere dark and steamy and… hot? It made his nose crinkle and his mouth pull back in a grimace, and Claus slowly pulled back, lifting his head the best he could. A short look below confirmed his head was resting on a pillow, which was resting on… a rock floor? It was immensely confusing, and Claus rubbed his eye free of grogginess. Was he looking at it correctly? Was he sleeping in a place with a completely rock floor? It seemed so.

 

The redhead shifted weakly, looking down to notice he was in a pool. The water was hot and steamy, and exceptionally calming, and Claus found himself immediately calmed more than he should have. The water scented vaguely of flowers and cinnamon, and Claus splashed in it, watching ripples form and move throughout the calm pool. Claus would come to eventually look up, then- and seeing a dark, rock ceiling, his small assumption was confirmed- he was in a cave.

 

Before he could get out of the pool, a voice was heard, the sound of bare feet slapping against the cave floor. “You’re awake, Claus!” A turn of his head would present Ninten, a cloth wrapped tightly around his nether areas, completely naked otherwise. The soft shimmer of scales were seen on his chest and belly, and Claus immediately found himself intrigued.

 

“H-Hi. Ninten.” The other responded to his greeting by unleashing his… thing, and hopping into the hot spring. Water splashed against Claus, making his face (which was already beet red, thank you Ninten) only redder in the process. Claus came to realize that he himself was also just as naked as his friend.

 

“Are you okay? You fell asleep!” His voice was calm but cheery, grinning at the other happily, his eyes glowing in the calm dimness of the cave. Claus found himself smiling, despite the awkwardness of their greeting. “Head h-hhurrrts. But. ‘S okay…” Ninten nodded, his eyes looking the tiniest bit concerned at the other’s words. With warning, he slipped forward, placing his hand on his head.

 

“A head hurting isn’t okay! If it hurts, it hurts!” Claus took the time to gently brush off the boy’s hand, sinking himself slightly lower in the hot, steamy water. The water was helping his body not feel so achy, his head slowly stopping it’s relentless throb as time went on. It felt nice. He liked it. With his head slowly coming to a close, Claus chose to change the subject. “Wh. Where am.. I…?”

 

His voice was soft, looking above and around him- eyes scanning over what was surrounding him. Above him was, what he had assumed earlier, a cave wall. Reaching upwards to a gargantuan height, stalactites reaching down from the ceiling like grasping fingers. Droplets of water from the rising steam would occasionally drip from above, landing in the pool, creating tiny ripples throughout the area. Looking around him, Claus would see the dimmed lighting of the walls- all smooth rock, but with crystals and jewels occasionally shining through them. It cast the area in a slight rainbow of light, what with the hot spring emanating a strange, magic fueled glow. The sound was silent aside from the dull crash of water, the distant call of bats, and the fuzzing hum of PSI. The cave was teeming with energy, even if it didn’t look like it.

 

“This is my home.” Ninten’s voice echoed throughout the cave, making it seem almost larger than life. “It’s really nice, huh?” Claus was nodding before he had even realized it. It _was,_ with every sense of the word. It looked like something out of a storybook. “Why is… J-J-Jewwel.. Gemms…” Half of them wouldn’t even of been able to form at such a time, since this world was completely brand new. It would of taken millions of years at most.

 

“Oh!” Ninten lit up, his eyes glowing with excitement, razor teeth shining as he grinned. “They show up when I use my powers too much! They’re very pretty, aren’t they? I like rubies the best.” He pointed to the wall, the two catching sight of a few shining rubies in the dark wall. “I dig out most, but some of them stay in there! I like them in the wall. It’s a decoration.” By that point, Claus was getting the least bit tired of sitting in the pool. His face lit up with embarrassment upon the realization that he had no clothes in sight.

 

“Cl-Clothes…” His words caught the other’s attention, and he let himself be lit up again, Ninten quickly scrambling out of the pool. (Thankfully, Claus covered his face in time.) As Ninten ran out of the room, towel wrapped hastily around him, he called out. “I’ll go get it!”

 

Left to his own devices, Claus looked around the room more. Still the same shine, still the same walls and ceiling- but upon closer inspection, he noticed a few gaps in the walls. Something that looked akin to doorways, but without the doors or the rectangular look of them. Of course, he noticed the one Ninten left, but another was catching his eye. If Claus could squint his eye, he could catch a glimpse of something through that doorway. Something large, circular, and- shiny…?

 

His attention was brought away from his curiosity once he heard the sound of feet slapping against the cave floor. Ninten was quickly returning, his own clothes back on; sans his feet which were awfully strange. Three clawed toes on the front side of his feet, but with the exact same thing, but with the other side of his feet as well. It looked awfully reptilian. Claus chose not to question it. Flopping another pair of clothes on the ground, Ninten giggled, covering his eyes. “You can change!”

 

And Claus did so, slipping on his shorts and his shirt, unable to slip his wings through the holes. Oh, he forgot to unbutton the holes a bit. Before he could call for help, He felt hands unbuttoning the small holes on the back of his shirt, his wings gratefully unfurling once they were free. He knew it was Ninten. “Thank you-youu.”

 

“No problem! Say,” Ninten took Claus’s hand in his, helping him up in a standing position. “wanna go look around my house? It’ll be fun!” Ninten’s other hand clasped over Claus’s as well, the warmth from his hands and the genuine happiness in the boy’s eyes making Claus feel _very_ weird.

 

Just as Claus was about to mumble a ‘yes’, he was pulled forward, both their feet sending small sounds throughout the echoing cave. Claus noticed they were going in the opposite direction of where that shiny object was, but the redhead was quickly sated of his curiosity of the moment. Seeing Ninten as happy as he was made the boy more happy than he should of. He knew he’d be fine without knowing, for now.

 

* * *

  
  


The cave was proving to be a lot bigger than he imagined.

 

It was more like a system of tunnels than one giant cave. One leading into the next, every single one alight of PSI energy and jewels this way and that. It was like Claus was looking into a world that was his opposite- everything was surreal and strange, and he barely understood it. But just like a mirror would do, he was intensely intrigued. With his fascination and Ninten’s excited rumbles, he could come to know the tunnel system where his best friend lived.

 

He had said a lot of people lived in this tunnel system before, but they were all gone, now. That would explain the countless numbers of adjacent rooms, each holding strange objects and empty cots. When Claus asked him where they had all gone, he had gone immensely silent. Claus chose not to pressure Ninten.

 

He also said a lot of other things, Claus didn’t understand. Ninten had dug out all these tunnels, on his own. All the fuzzing PSI was Ninten’s, and he didn’t exactly know how control it just yet. Maybe his friend was lying to look cool? It would be the most logical explanation. There was no way in Hell Ninten would be able to dig all this out, and Kumatora was the most powerful PK user he’d ever seen. He was close to his strange friend, sure, but he had to be lying. Right?

 

He hoped so.

 

Finally, the two stopped at a large opening. “This is my room.” was all the other said, gently nudging Claus into the it. Ninten’s room, Claus would note the second he entered the room, was that this was the heart of the strange energy. Nearly all of his powers immediately went haywire the second he entered, his severed arm sputtering flakes of snow, embers, and flashes of lightning before they puttered out altogether. The second thing he would note that it was a _lot_ more colorful than the other caves he’d been in. A bed of stolen cloth and clothing covered the floor, pillows occasionally strewn this way and that. The wall was covered in jewels of many shapes and sizes, and little strange treasures and objects lay on rock shelves and pillows. It was certainly odd. Claus was, to put it simply, at a loss for words.

 

“I collect things.” Ninten ambled towards a pile of strange objects, pulling out a long, yellow sword. The sight of it made Claus feel incredibly odd: something negative. Worry was etched into his face, and as Ninten noticed, he became concerned. He dropped the sword and made his way over to the redhead. “Did I do something wrong?” Claus couldn’t respond. He just sat on the ground with a huff, covering his face with his arms, his brain making him think things. Things he couldn’t recognize, and things he couldn’t remember. He shook his head, body shaking in fear. “Where did. You g-get.”

 

Ninten kneeled down to sit in front of him. “Someone gave it to me. But that isn’t the matter right now! You’re sad.” Claus felt hands grasp his cheeks. Warm, nearly buzzing hands. When he slowly lowered his own, his eye caught sight of his friend, concerned and slightly frightened. “Please don’t be sad Claus. I don’t like it when Claus is sad.” Claus’s voice, no matter how strange it was, couldn’t help couldn’t help but make the redhead smile.

 

“‘M not… It’s… okay.” He was fine. He could handle this. His crimson gaze traveled over to the sword, which was resting on the ground nearby. He had to figure out why he was so upset in the first place. He needed to figure out why. Claus moved, his wings folded neatly to his back, reaching out to grab the strange, yellow blade.

 

It felt like it was made for him. His claws grasped around the hilt knowingly, a pulse of Thunder passing through it. He felt like he knew this sword, and it knew him. Though fear was filling him to his core, and his eye was filled with painful memories even looking at the weapon, he held it close.

 

It was important to him, strangely. Claus had the urge to keep it to his side.

 

All of a sudden, as if it came from nowhere, he felt a spark in the back of his head. Something beneath the swelling ocean of wild PSI, he felt something controlled, almost as if it was calling out to him. His grasp on the blade tightened, and Ninten immediately noticed. “Is something the matter?” His inquiry was planted in unhearing ears. Claus was too preoccupied in the feeling in him.

 

The feeling expanded exponentially, and Claus felt something in him. Panic. He knew it shouldn’t be there, he knew it wasn’t _his_ feelings. But it was there, and Claus came to his nubs, his knuckles almost white as he held the blade. Something was heard in the back of his mind, and he let out a word he didn’t even know he was thinking. “Lucas.” Without warning, Claus stood, and began to race out of the room.

 

“Wait-!” Ninten came behind him, his voice breathy as he was forced to run. “Lucas? I thought he was a bitch! Where are you going-!”

 

Claus didn’t listen. He just ran towards the source of the aura in his chest, until he came upon the sight of a waterfall. The same one he’d seen when he first arrived. It looked like Ninten’s home was behind the safety of the cascading water. Through the sound of the waterfall, he heard a female’s voice, familiar. “Can you sense him?” He knew it was Nana’s voice, even if her name was hard to place. A voice accompanied her, someone who Claus immediately recognized- his twin. “Yes, I can sense him, he’s right around here.”

 

He felt the presence of Ninten beside him. His breath barely there, he didn’t say anything, just sat there and listened along with Claus. They could hear the voices quiet down to a murmur. Something in Claus tugged him forward, something in him made him want to run right out and tackle his brother, sobbing apology after apology to him, but he stayed put. Something bad was going to happen. It was the one thing that overshadowed his urge.

 

The redhead took the risk of sneaking towards the edge of the waterfall. As his eye caught sight of his brother and the girl, his breath came to a quick halt. Claws digging into the rock wall, he stared, watching for anything to happen.

 

At first, nothing did. His sense of fear and trouble, which was once over-powering, slowly began to fade away. Nothing was wrong. They were searching for him, right? He was going to be fine. He was going to be safe. He ignored Ninten, who was watching just as intently as he, and only stared at his brother.

 

Lucas’s blue eyes became in contact with his red, and relief washed over him. He was going to be fine.

 

But that sense of relief wasn’t there for long.

 

As soon as Lucas notified Nana of his presence, she immediately went forward, digging something sharp right into Lucas’s stomach. The blonde, who was completely cut off guard, could only cry out before Nana twisted the thing, and shoved Lucas to the ground. He could see sparks of PSI travel throughout his entire body, before completely going still.

 

Claus didn’t even know if he was dead or not.

 

Something made him move. White hot, seething rage made him race forward, a shriek in his throat, blade glowing with PSI, veins pulsing and hot with the same energy. All that filled his mind in those short moments was a desire to _kill._ A desire to rip this murderer to pieces, to watch her scream in pain as he dug his teeth into her throat. He had never been this enraged in his life, and truthfully, it scared him. But it overcame any fear, and he was ready to end it, ready to feel blood on his teeth and claws and-

 

Something heavy knocked into Claus’s head, and he stumbled, before promptly falling to the ground. Through his pained, hazy vision, he caught sight of another pair of feet, approaching Nana. They held a large board of wood in their hands, and the edge was bloodied beyond repair.

 

Claus slowly turned his head to the side, despite the agonizing pain that blasted through it, and caught sight of Ninten near the entrance to the cave. There was pure panic, pure terror in his eyes, hands curled up, steam rising from his arms. The two best friends stared into each other’s eyes.

 

A knowing look passed over Ninten, and he turned, running back into the depths of the tunnel system. Claus could do nothing but lie there.

 

“Let’s get them back to Tazmily before Dad kills us.” a regretful voice echoed through his hazy mind, and Claus was roughly lifted by his armpits and dragged forward. He could see Nana, picking up Lucas’s motionless form, carrying him on her back as she began to move. There was a pained, saddened look in her eyes. Like she didn’t want to do this. Claus’s anger toward her faded. All he could do was stare at Lucas, anyways- stare as blood trickled from his mouth, stare at his heavily stained, bloodied shirt, stare as his feet dragged in the dirt lifelessly. The redhead knew this was his fault. He knew that if he hadn’t ran away, none of this would of happened. He was responsible for Lucas’s trauma yet again.

 

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, and he closed his uninjured one, feeling guilt fill him.

  
_What a hero I am._


	9. ninten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wings and horns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a slow chapter, but the action will kick up soon!

Claws scraped against rock, leaving long stretches of marks in Ninten’s wake. His arms, which once held normal hands and nails, were changing before his very eyes- longer claws erupting from his fingertips, veins glowing in the darkness of the tunnels. Ninten didn’t know where his larger claws were coming from, and it frankly scared him. He had never changed like this in his entire life, for as long as he could remember- he had always been  _ Ninten.  _ Not… this. 

 

But he pushed his fear aside. He had something to do,  _ someone to save.  _ It was the only thought that clouded his mind, filled it to the brim. It was the only thing that made him as outwardly enraged as he was. Arms steaming with embers, pupils slits, his run faster than it had ever been. He had one thing keeping him focused, and the sensation only made his craving for saving his best friend stronger. 

 

Ninten took a moment to race into his room, skidding to a halt amongst the colorful cloth and pillows, digging around his pile of special trinkets he had found. He didn’t know exactly why he was doing this- why he was digging through his stuff, when he had someone to save. But he was- and as he was digging through the massive pile, his reasonings behind his search only became more and more clear in his mind. He needed to find something that would remind him of Claus.

 

It had only taken a few moments before he found his prize. Digging out a helmet, Ninten took a moment to sniff the thing, catching the scent of his best friend. Though his particular smell was awfully stale, as well as being covered by a layer of metallic sheen, Ninten was able to catch the scent and keep it to himself. He could come to think that now that he had Claus’s scent, he could track it, and- and show that village who they were messing with.

 

Ninten snatched a cap amongst his pile of trinkets and treasures, letting it fall on his head, before he hopped back up into his feet and began to run once more. He only wore his favorite cap when he needed to, and, well- he certainly needed it right now. It held him down to reality, if only for a bit, and he needed any shred of calm that this cap was willing to give.

 

As he broke free of the waterfall tunnel system, Ninten felt himself change. It wasn’t anything painful, especially with adrenaline rushing through his veins, but he could absolutely feel every single crack and bend his body produced. Something emerged from his back, large and leathery, flapping aimlessly as he passed through the forest in a blur. His scales, which covered his chest and stomach, became harder and more plated. Two long, spiked horns broke from his cap. It was a transformation that would only show up with his explosion of feeling, and one that he had never experienced.

 

But, Ninten took to it well.

 

His wings flapped. One, two, before he felt his feet leave the forest floor and his body clumsily rise. His claws caught the bark of trees, and Ninten aimlessly clawed his way up the trees he had attached to, head breaking free from the leafy foliage. He was in a panic, too much to properly realize what he was doing. Ninten had never felt anything like this before. He had never  _ worried  _ like this before. 

 

So he acted without thinking. Sniffing the air, Ninten caught the scent of his friend once more, clumsily letting himself flutter to follow the trail. Though his first experience with flight was a clumsy one, it was one that was filled with focus, and he found himself moving swifter than he ever had before. Maybe this was with purpose? Maybe the urge to save someone he liked pushed him over the edge and into an area where he’d work faster? He didn’t know, nor did he care.

 

Ninten found himself on a hilltop, sooner than later. A few tents surrounded the area, the ground stepped on enough to make it the tiniest bit of a living space. Though other scents filled the area and overwhelmed him, Ninten knew that Claus had been here. He knew that his friend lived here, considering the ferocity of what the boy smelled. With a single huff, Ninten disappeared into the canvas shell of what seemed to be the largest tent, and the source of where Claus might be hiding. It was a doubtful hope that he had escaped and traveled to his home, but it was a hope nonetheless.

 

Glowing pupils, slitted and barely noticeable, scanned the tent. Claws digging into the fur-skinned ground, Ninten took a few small hops forward, his eyes falling upon what was obviously Claus’s wardrobe. A number of different clothes strewn about, Ninten gently sifted through them, hoping to smell something fresh. Something that would give away that his friend was hiding. 

 

...Nothing. Though Ninten knew he was most likely dead in the middle of that village, he was still hoping that he was fine. That he’d be okay. Ninten’s legs cracked as he stood to his full height, letting out a low sigh, preparing to turn and leave the tent. 

 

But something caught his eye.

 

Something shimmering and iridescent, sitting on a small box, upon an old, beat up dresser. It instantly caught Ninten’s attention, spurring his legs forward, until he found his away over to the tiny, shiny object. Upon further inspection Ninten saw that it was one of his own scales, sitting perfectly still, washed and polished. Ninten felt something catch in his throat.

 

It was the scale he had given Claus, the first time he’d ever met him.

 

Ninten was never the one to let emotions get to him. No, he just let everything pass with a smile on his face, let everything drift away into nothing before he completely forgot. But this made Ninten’s face burn. Lifting up the little scale, he could see that it had obviously been well taken care of- it looked brand new, not like it had fallen off all those weeks ago. Ninten… didn’t know how to feel.

 

His eyes wandered over to the box under the small trinket. Labelled in sloppy handwriting, Ninten could obviously see who had written it:  _ “CLAUSS VERY COOL STUFF DONT’ TOUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!” _

 

The young boy obviously didn’t want to disrespect his best friend’s wishes, but his curiosity got the better of him. Gently pulling up the top of the box, Ninten would see a variety of objects, all ordered neatly in the small space. A very broken shells, a stick sharpened into a weapon, a few big leaves, and a couple dead insects. Though they weren’t the most interesting find, Ninten felt a giggle come up the back of his throat. Claus was very cute. 

 

The strange individual soon noticed another object in the pile, however. Being as careful as he possibly could, Ninten gently gripped the object that caught his eye, pulling it out of the little box. It didn’t take long to notice that it was a photo- a little bit busted up, but brand new. It depicted Claus, what could only be his brother, as well as an older man Ninten had never met. They were all posing near a tree, obviously messing and joking around.

 

Ninten felt… happy. Seeing this photo. As his eyes wandered over the photo, he found himself staring at the older man in the back. He looked awfully similar to his friend, like what Claus would look like in… fifty years or so. Ninten squinted his eyes. As he stared, a plan began to form in his head.

 

Perhaps… he could get help from this older man.

 

Ninten’s mind was set in stone, then. Flipping the picture around, he would note the sloppy handwriting of Claus, explaining who the three were with a runout pen. Though Ninten could barely see it, he could certainly understand it: Flint. He needed to find this Flint, and get help from him! Yes, that would be the plan.

 

With a newfound smile on his face, Ninten adjusted his cap in confidence, stuffing the photo in his pocket. With a quick glance towards the box, he swiped up the scale, as well- a good luck charm. 

 

Ninten wasted no moment. Running out of the tent, leaping off the steep edge of the hill, he took off into the air, a new sense of encouragement running through his veins. He’d rescue both of them, and then he could be Claus’s friend like always.


	10. forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trapped

The only light that trickled through the crack in the walls made intricate patters on the ground. It was like a kaleidoscope, but despite it’s prettiness, it was only a reminder of where they were at the moment. Only a reminder that they were stuck in this place to begin with.

 

Lucas didn’t mind.

 

To Lucas, he was barely even there in the first place. With his head in the dirt and his arms wrapped around his torso, he barely registered the fact that his body was even in any mortal plane. To him, he was out of this prison, frollicking around in the sunshine, playing with his brother and whatnot. Truthfully, Lucas didn’t mind.

 

His eyes were closed, breath coming out in shallow huffs, each breath causing a rip to form in his thoughts, a glitch in his happy hallucinations. He didn’t register it as pain, not at all- it was something that simply cut into what he loved, and Lucas instinctively didn’t enjoy it. He wanted it  _ gone.  _ He wanted to not breathe so he didn’t have to worry about this small, slight slash in his mind.

 

But with a sharp, wet rip- Lucas was seized back into reality by the legs. Just as he was reaching his family, his family that hadn’t fallen apart, he was ripped back into the real world, left to scream in pain as warm gushes of…  _ something  _ left his torso. His head was dizzy with pain, his eyes unfocused, fingers twitching and mouth pulled back into a grimace. All he felt was pain, all he could imagine was the pain that ripped through his stomach like a thousand rows of jagged teeth. 

 

He felt something shove against his belly, leaving him to cough up blood. But as he grasped the object, he would vaguely come to recognize it as… Cloth. Soaking up the deeply wounded injury, it gave him something to hold onto. And slowly,  _ slowly,  _ his eyes began to focus on the world around him.

 

He knew he was propped up against someone, his head leaning back against someone’s warm chest, feeling a heartbeat against his ear. Arms were wrapped around him, a large, clawed hand keeping the cloth attached to his belly. With pain filled, still hazy eyes, he could barely see flashes of PSI pass through the clawed hand, making the pain in his body slowly ebb away. Though the shift in pain was slight, it was astronomical in his eyes, making him visibly relax, a shaky, pained breath leaving him.

 

The person who was holding him shifted, and he heard a soft, stuttering voice, filled with apprehension. “L-Lucas?” The blonde could only lie there, pain flowing through him in waves. After what seemed like millenia, he let out a nod, moving his legs to hold them against the cloth. With a glance downwards, he could see the cloth was, in fact, a shirt.

 

He instantly knew who it was, and a wave of emotions hit him like a brick. He wanted to say so many things, wanted to be angry at him, wanted to be grateful that he was back, but all Lucas could do was murmur  _ “Claus…” _

 

Lucas felt his eyelids flutter. Staying awake was getting too difficult at the moment, and attempting to speak to his brother only drained him faster. But his mind wanted him to keep going, to keep saying things he wanted to say, so he spoke. “Claus- I-... I…”

 

Claus squeezed the blonde tighter to himself, causing a slash of pain to spike through his body. Fighting to stifle a yell in pain, he hissed, slightly leaning forward, instinctively trying to curl up into a ball. But his brother held him in place, his clawed arm trembling, a clover-green aura vaguely surrounding where his hand stood. Lucas instantly recognized it as a very amateur, very weak version of Lifeup. 

 

“Sh-shhh…” Claus’s stuttering voice, though filled with fear, was also filled with determination. Determination to make sure Lucas wouldn’t bleed out onto the ground. The boy felt a pang of pity for the redhead, as he knew that he could barely conjure up the smallest form of Healing, let alone Lifeup. He should be doing the work on himself, not make his brother do all the work. 

 

Lucas felt yet another pang of pity. His brother shouldn’t be going through this. It should of been only him. With a shaky hand, he gently coaxed Claus’s hand away from the wound, feeling a tidal wave of pain crash against him once the suppression was lifted. Moving his hand, he shakily lifted the blood soaked shirt, tossing it aside as his blue eyes wandered down to where the injury was.

 

Lucas wanted to gag.

 

The wound was deep, digging into his stomach further than his pain-hazed eyes could see. Blood still leaked from the gash, staining his own shirt and running down his torso in vascular ropes. As his thumb grazed freed skin, and he lifted up, he could see pulsing red flesh, cut and slashed. It seemed on the verge of infection, the freed skin right around the wound more dull and grey compared to the rest of his body. Lucas felt bile rise in his throat at the mere sight, and he slammed his hand against the wound, gasping as he felt blood gush against his shaking fingers.

 

With a wheezing breath, he urged his body to conjure Lifeup, a much more strong aura of green appearing around his hand. As he felt flesh bind together and his stomach twist with strange feelings, his breath slowly evened, the feeling of drowsiness taking over his fear.

 

He tiredly leaned back against Claus, who looked terrified, hand balled into a fist and severed arm glowing with psychic power. Though he was awfully tired, the sight of Claus’s terrified expression spurred something in him. “I’ll be… f-ffine.” Lucas mumbled, voice slurring, gingerly lifting up his hand to survey the wound. Though there was still a deep laceration, it was nothing compared to what it once was, and the blonde let his hand press back onto it. 

 

Claus shook his head, eyesight avoiding Lucas’s, guilt and sorrow seeping into his expression. “No you. W-Won’t. No…” Looking downward, the redhead sniffed, and Lucas found himself turning slowly to face his twin. Cautiously, he pulled his arm away from his injury, wrapping his arms around the other’s torso, pulling him in for an embrace. Feeling the other squeeze against him, Lucas felt his own sniffle leave his body, nuzzling himself against the crook of Claus’s neck.

 

“I’m- You’re… You’re right.” Looking down at the ground, Lucas felt his emotions stir, his belly dully throbbing with each breath he took. “I put you through this. If I. If I would’ve just  _ stopped you-”  _ Clenching his teeth, the blood hissed tearily, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill. If he would’ve just stopped Claus, he wouldn’t of ran. If he stopped his brother, he would’ve of been safe. If he stopped him, he wouldn’t of been by that  _ fucking drago.  _ All of this was his fault. Even back, three years ago, it had been his fault.

 

_ “No-!”  _ Claus’s cry was enough to startle himself out of his thoughts, pulling away to stare at his brother. For once, his twin was staring at him, red eye into blue, blue eye into red. He was staring at him fully, his cheeks flushed, face covered in tears, hair messy and undone. “Not. No. You-you’re…. Not. F-fffault!” Claus violently attempted to wipe away his tears with his arm, but Lucas found himself doing it for him, his brother’s cheek smearing against the side of his hand as he cried softly. “It...sssss… Mine. I did bad. I ran aw-way. I t-turned myself-” Claus gulped. “-I turned mys-self. Retarded. I m-made myself a. Murderer. I deserved it…” His brother looked at the ground, and murmured in a soft, sorrow ridden voice. “No one likes me now. That’s okay…”

 

Lucas didn’t know he was crying until he felt the tears slide down his cheeks. Claus… felt this way? Claus let these words get to him? Lucas wanted to do a plethora of things. Scold him. Comfort him. Be silent. He wanted to do so many things, but he had no clue, no idea what to do. All Lucas ended up doing was pulling Claus close, running his fingers through messed hair, his breath shaky. He didn’t care about getting out of this cage, he didn’t care about living. All the blonde cared about was his brother.

 

“...I still like you.” The boy found himself murmuring, arms loosely holding onto the redhead, the dull pain all but forgotten at this point. Even so, he felt his brother shake his head, the claws on his hand twitching and playing with one another. A nervous tick the other had bought, surely. “Everyone else wants. M-Me dead.” 

 

“They don’t!” Lucas knew he was most likely lying. He knew that what he was saying was most likely a lie. But he couldn’t stop himself from speak, trying to help Claus calm down, if only the least bit. “They don’t understand, is all. They don’t understand that you’re different, and being different is okay!” The words of Nana rang in his mind at his own words.  _ Claus is still Claus.  _ She was completely right.

 

“You called me a child…” The sentence he spoke hit a chord in Lucas, and he shifted, looking away from the other in guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t. I didn’t know what I was saying there. I have no excuse.”

 

He looked back up at his brother, noticing the constant stream of tears had finally dried up. While there was still a sad glint in his expression, he was smiling, and without warning Claus dragged Lucas into a deep, spine crushing hug. “I’m still sad b-but.” Claus took in a deep breath, voice muffled, face buried in the blonde’s chest. “It’s okay.”

 

The two sat in silence for a while, then. Burying themselves in a hug, they lay, unmoving. They didn’t want to move. They didn’t want to be shoved back into reality, into a reality where they were stuck in a cage in the middle of Tazmily, where the both of them would surely die at the hands of people who once were close to them. All they needed was the two of them, and the comfort that they were  _ right there,  _ and not seperated. 

 

But eventually, Lucas broke the silence. For once, his confidence of being a brother who could protect was fading. He was able to keep it under wraps, the first time they’d been here. He was able to keep it to himself when Claus had ran away. He was able to keep it together for so long, but the cracks in his stone cold wall were growing.

 

Lucas was terrified. He didn’t know what would happen to them. He had his own powers, he had Kumatora and Duster and Boney at his side before, he had the entire world against him but he was able to break through. But he had no one but Claus now, in this place. Stuck in a prison, barely alive, with a brother who surely couldn’t protect himself from an entire village. Everything was going against him, and the savior of Nowhere Islands felt himself slip.

 

“Claus.” Lucas’s words came out quivering, his fear finally taking over the sense of protection that had carried him for so long.  _ “I’m scared.”  _

 

Lucas curled up the best he could, burying his face against his knees, the pain in his belly accentuated as a wave of tears crashed against him, and eventually spilled out of his eyes. Taking in a shuddering breath, the blonde could only let out a sob, the bloodiness and dirtiness of himself coming full force. He was in reality. A reality that was against him completely.

 

He didn’t fight when he felt Claus pull him back into an embrace. Arms wrapped around him, Claus’s body against his, he cried, crumbling back down into the child he was. He was  _ thirteen fucking years old,  _ and he went through this. His brother was thirteen, and now he was damaged. They were both damaged as fucking children and Lucas realized it. It had always been in the back of his mind, yes, but sitting there is when he realized it.

 

“You’ll be. We’re. Fine.” Lucas shook his head.

 

“We’re not. We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die and die again and again and again. I just want everything back. To like- to like us. I want old Tazmily. I want Dad and Mom and me and you and Boney back. It was better. We were better. We didn’t have to  _ fucking worry!”  _ Lucas nearly growled his last few words, before breaking down into tears once more. 

 

“No- no! We’re fine! We can’t.” The blonde shifted, hearing Claus speak, doubt in his mind as he sniffled weakly. “We can’t change th’ p-past. But. We have. We’re. Together now. Dad’s h-hhhheeere. It’s. G-good…”

 

Lucas wanted to believe his brother, but he couldn’t muster up the strength to. All he did was lie against his twin, chest heaving, the drowsiness from his injury, from his PSI, from his sobbing, all come back down on him. He just wanted to be a kid again. He didn’t want to be like this. He didn’t want to die. He was  _ scared  _ to.

 

“Lucas…” Claus’s voice came out slow, as if he was thinking to himself. Lucas, voice teary from his past cries, only sniffled out a hum in acknowledgement. He was finally letting the drowsiness catch up to him, body limp, breath slow. “You think. Mom still l-likes us…?

 

The blonde shifted, thinking. Eventually, as he finally began to doze off, he murmured. “Yeah. She likes us. She likes you.”

 

Lucas fell asleep.


	11. assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late chapter! my computer broke at the worst time, and i had to wait so long just to continue! ):

Ninten broke through the roof of Flint’s home with a crash. He didn’t know how long ago.

 

He didn’t exactly plan to do so, really- all he had really planned was to land gracefully on the ceiling before sliding off and disappearing into the home. But he had gotten a little bit too excited with his wings, dive-bombed, and, well- here he was.

 

He didn’t know exactly how long it had been since he had fell, really. The second he had fallen through he had blacked out on the spot, and after what seemed like years upon years of sleeping, he finally awoken with a snort of fire and a flail of his arms. 

 

Where. Was he.

 

His eyes scanned the area cautiously. Upon first inspection, it seemed to be a log cabin. He was in a cozy little room that was obviously some sort of bedroom, though he had been sleeping on a cot rather than a full bed (he didn’t exactly know what full beds were, so, y’know). A window shone light through it, and if Ninten craned his neck, he could see that he was in the middle of a forest. As the grogginess shook away from his head, he came to realize that he was in Flint’s home. 

 

Ninten dug around in his pocket aimlessly, pulling out the photo and examining it closely. In the background, he could make out the form of massive pines, which was the exact same type of tree through the window.

 

Yep. It was Flint’s.

 

Ninten, a new rising purpose in his gut, immediately began to rise, attempting to unfurl his wings. But they wouldn’t budge; being binded by something strange and sticky. With a patting, exploring hand, he came to realize that his wings were bandaged. Oh, heck. Did he injure them that badly? That was bad. Certainly. Whatever. He had survived without wings for this long, he could survive longer without them once more.

 

As the male began to rise, the sound of footsteps made him stop. His pupils transformed into slits, and a thin, forked tongue swiftly flicked out of his mouth, instincts kicking in the moment he heard them approach. Ninten was a boy running on pure natural instincts alone, he rarely put thought into his actions- so when he realized he was in a small, crowded room, with the only exit most likely being protected, he was equated to that of a corned animal.

 

So when that door slung open, an older man at the heel, Ninten hissed. The scales on his arms subtly furled upwards, claws sharp and ready to pounce. Though his head was held low, his lips were pulled back into a snarl, and the raven-haired boy couldn’t help but spit in the man’s direction.

 

But the memory of Claus calmed him down. He needed to be saved.

 

_ “Hey-”  _ The man’s voice held a rather thick southern drawl, like Claus’s, but much clearer. He wore a large, worn down brimmed hat, a leather jacket and worn down, torn jeans. He looked like a stereotypical cowboy, if Ninten even knew what a cowboy was. He held no weapon, but was taking slow step after slow step towards Ninten, arms spread out in warning. “Calm down. I’m not here to kill ya.”

 

Slowly, his scales settled, and Ninten gingerly stood up on clawed feet. The two’s eyes connected, though for only a moment- bright yellow with deep, brownish red. It was as if they were talking to one another in those few short moments, silent words brought between the two. Ninten’s hand curled into a fist, holding onto the photo tightly. Finally, after what seemed like eons, the man’s shoulders slumped, and his hands fell down to his sides. 

 

A hand was brought to his forehead, but before long, he looked back up towards the younger male with an exasperated expression. “...Who in the right hell are you?” 

 

“Nezrin.” He didn’t want to give out his nickname, not with someone he barely knew. As a look of shock, fear, and then even more exasperation fell across the stranger’s face, Ninten couldn’t help but feel the hairs on his back of his neck stand. He spoke before the other could. “Are you Flint?”

 

The man leaned against the door, head looking down, yet again thinking for what seemed like forever. “I- uhm.” Raising a hand to his mouth, he coughed into it, clearing his throat. “Yes, I am.” The man - Flint - eventually raised his head, looking over where Ninten stood. “So.  _ Nezrin-  _ why in the ever loving Nowhere Islands did you fall smack dab through my roof? You scared the pants off my friend Isaac over here.” His head inclined backwards, where another man, visibly more spooked, stood.

 

Ninten, while wanting to go on and on about these two individuals, eventually found himself shaking his head. This wasn’t the time to mingle about! This was the time to save! Ninten silently shoved the photo in Flint’s hands, eyes slightly narrowing in anger at his own thoughts. They could be dead, Claus and his brothers could be piles of mush on the floor and he had spent who knows how long lying here!

 

Flint’s eyebrows furrowed, looking down at the slightly crumpled picture in his hands. His mouth turned into a pointed frown. “Where did you get this?" 

 

“Claus’s room. I’m friends with him. But that isn’t why I’m here!” The sound of his son’s name immediately altered Flint, and even Isaac- who was adjusting his glasses, a worried glance plastered on his face. “He’s in trouble, and so is that blonde one! I came to warn you- they were. Well, the blonde one was stabbed and-”

 

“Wait,  _ wait.  _ Hold on there.” Flint raised his hands in a gesture to stop, and Ninten silenced himself, even if he was vibrating visibly. “I don’t know how you know about my sons, or how you even  _ found  _ his room, but cut the crap and tell me this; who was responsible?” 

 

“The town.”

 

Flint let out a breath in disbelief, more like a snort- while Isaac stiffened. “One of them, a blonde girl, stabbed Claus’s brother, uhh, Lucas- right in the gut, like this!” He held an imaginary knife and jabbed it into his side, though it was more him punching himself in the stomach. “Claus went to go get him but he was bashed right on the head! That was by a brown haired kid, and! Well, Lucas wasn’t looking all too well and Claus was bleeding from his head and wowie this is  _ bad!”  _

 

Ninten saw Flint’s eyes slightly narrow, a hand gripping his belt tightly. “I ain’t taking kindly to jokes, especially one’s this gruesome, boy.” Though his mouth was a grimace, and his shoulders stiff, he didn’t look violent. He just looked awfully annoyed. Before Flint could open his mouth to speak, his companion took him by the shoulder.

 

“Flint. We have no reason to believe he’s faking. That town, it’s not like Tazmily. They don’t forgive.” Flint stared at Isaac for what seemed like years, before his gaze flicked towards the other’s shoulder. Ninten could assume there was an injury there. “If they were to injure a simple ex pigmask, who knows what they would do to the commander?”

 

“...This is  _ Nezrin,  _ Isaac. The Dark Dragon? He started this mess, all things considered. He-” His voice lowered, tone thick with grief. “I spent all this  _ fucking  _ time praying to him, sitting in that cathedral. Wishing he would bring Hinawa back. I can’t bring myself to trust him, not just yet.”

 

“The Dark Dragon can’t control what the people do. He didn’t make me choose to become a pigmask. He didn’t choose to make Tazmily what it is now. He didn’t choose to bring her back. ...At least go, just in case? Just in case your sons might be dead?”

 

The two stared at each other, unwavering. Ninten could only look at them as well, waiting, trying to look for any visible changes in either expression. When Flint’s face hardened, Ninten knew what went through his mind, and he felt a surge of satisfaction at the sight. 

 

“I don’t trust you. But I ain’t taking the risk of losing my fuckin’ family any longer.” He spoke, shifting aside Isaac, moving into the deeper parts of the home. When he eventually returned, he was strapped up for what seemed like combat. Wearing iron-clad boots, and having what seemed like a club in his hands. Flint slung the club over his shoulder.

 

“Let’s go.”


End file.
